


Where We Lay in the Shadows

by Jackie_Gaytona



Series: In The Shadows [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Multi, Sex, doggo!, himbo nandor, shaddow, the
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: Sequel to "Who We Kiss in the Shadows"Guillermo has never been in a relationship. Nandor's last relationship was 20-Guillermo-Lifetimes ago. Now they have to figure out where to go from the unexpected events on Guillermo's birthday.
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV), Laszlo Cravensworth/Nadja
Series: In The Shadows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771906
Comments: 122
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nandor is being his usual selfish himbo self. Poor Guillermo :c
> 
> I was actually going to postpone this sequel until the series end, to give me something to do while I wait all depressed in the shadows for Season 3. But after watching the latest episode, I needed me some Nandermo.
> 
> Also I painted a portrait of Nandor for the #sixfanartschallenge on Twitter, which I'll include at the end of this chapter!

The edges of the mirror were frosted with steam, but Guillermo had wiped much of it away with his towel, revealing his face and chest. He’d put on his glasses so that he could see, but the rest of him was still naked. His hair was plastered to his forehead, bronze skin glistening with water and sweat. Light from the single hanging bulb cast its fingers through the steam, illuminating one side of his face. His breathing began to slow to a normal speed as he stared at his reflection, taken aback.

He liked what he saw.

He was the same old Guillermo, of course. Still human. Nothing about his physical appearance had changed. Nothing very noticeable, anyway. Except he wasn’t _quite_ the same, was he? His eyes were darker than usual, his pupils blown out with the afterglow of lovemaking. He felt stronger and more confident than he ever had before; Nandor had shown him a side of himself that he didn’t even know existed. A side of himself that he was very much beginning to enjoy.

His tongue slid absently across his bottom lip, feeling the sting of several cuts as it went. His chest was scratched raw, the skin slightly torn in places. Blood coursed down his chest from two deep puncture wounds in his right shoulder. It mixed with the droplets that had travelled down from his wet hair, turning the water pink. The throbbing in his shoulder felt delicious. He could still taste his own blood on his lips; could still make out his master’s scent on his skin, accented by the floral aroma of soap.

Behind him, the shower turned off, and there was movement that he heard rather than saw.

“Guillermo, look!” Nandor exclaimed. Guillermo glanced past his reflection to the space behind him, where rivulets of water cascaded from thin air, following invisible contours shaped suspiciously like a man. “I am a ghostly waterfall! WoooOOooo!”

Guillermo’s face broke out in a grin, one that reached his eyes and dissolved the lust that had been there moments ago.

Yeah.

He could get used to this.

**Three Months Earlier:**

Guillermo was a ball of nerves. One of those dense rubber band balls, with the bands pulled so tightly together that the ones buried inside struggled to breathe.

_Just breathe, Guillermo. Just breathe. Oh my god._

It was nearing seven, and the sun had been down for an hour or so now. The house seemed to anticipate the vampire’s imminent rising; it thumped and creaked and groaned and every time it did, Guillermo lost another nerve. Like a snapping rubber band, it would twang painfully within him and fizzle out.

His head was swimming with the events of last night. It should have been a normal birthday – and by Guillermo’s standards, a normal birthday was just a normal day. Maybe with the added treat of cake. But the moment he’d woken, something intuitive inside him told him the day would be different. That intuition failed to forewarn him that the day would prove to be life-changing.

For one, he was now the proud (if not careful **)** master of a goliath cane corso that his vampiric companions had lovingly named ‘Shaddow’. Misprint or not, Shaddow lived up to his name: if it weren’t for his icy, supernatural eyes, he would be completely invisible against a dark backdrop. Guillermo had known him less than a day, but he was starting to warm up to his new companion. The dog that had attacked him the first time they’d laid eyes on each other was now proving to be a loyal guardian; in fact, he was a little _too_ loyal. He’d nearly torn the hose off the vacuum cleaner this afternoon when Guillermo had turned the machine on in the foyer, eager to remove all evidence of last night’s celebration. And when Guillermo went to check the cell before breakfast this morning, to make sure his housemates hadn’t left any dinner in there from last night, Shaddow had grabbed his sweater in his fierce jaws and flung him back from a twitching body. Guillermo had landed on his ass, in a pool of blood, and had to take a second cold shower.

Aside from his new, protective companion, the vampires had surprised him with a shower of confetti and he’d almost stabbed them in thanks. Colin Robinson had kindly bought him a cake – from a _real patisserie_ – and Nadja had even sung him the Birthday Song. But all of that paled in comparison to how the night ended.

Guillermo thought back to the intense kiss he’d shared with Nandor; his mind replaying the dizzying feeling of his body being crushed between his bedroom door and his master.

_Oh god. Slow breathing, Guillermo._

He’d standing in the fancy room, absent-mindedly dusting the same lampshade for five minutes now, his brow knitted and his eyes wide in anticipatory horror. He’d not seen Nandor since last night, when the vampire had wished him goodnight and fled the blood that had been leaking from Guillermo’s bottom lip. It was part of his job to wake his master and help him dress each worknight, but he couldn’t bring himself to step foot into the crypt tonight. How would Nandor react to him now? How would he treat him after what they’d shared last night?

Shaddow whined and began to wag his tail, picking up the soft scrape of shoes against polished wood. Guillermo heard it too, coming from the foyer.

_Oh shit, oh shit._

“Good night!” A voice boomed.

Guillermo screamed **.**

“Gizmo?” Laszlo said, the sounds of cracking bones ringing through the room as he stretched. “What the fuck was that?”

“N-nothing,” Guillermo gasped. He dusted faster. “You just surprised me.”

“No offense, chap, but you look like you have Neptune’s trident shoved up your arse.” Laszlo sauntered over to his favourite lounge and settled down, crossing his legs and draping an arm over the chair’s backrest. He was dressed in his usual charming attire: morning tailcoat, white frilly blouse and neat black trousers.

Shaddow came over to sniff at him, tail wagging curiously. Laszlo greeted him with a friendly mumble and a pat on the head. “No, boy. This is _Laszlo’s_ lounge. Go sit in Nandor’s. Or better yet, Gizmo’s.”

Hearing his master’s name from Laszlo nearly sent Guillermo hyperventilating. He clutched the side of the little square table that supported the lamp, and forced slow, deep breaths. Laszlo shifted in his seat, his forehead creased in what looked like genuine concern.

“You don’t _really_ have something stuck in your bum, do you Gizmo? Should I call the doctor again? I don’t want a repeat of the dildo testing-”

“It’s Guillermo.” Deep, slow breaths.

“Gizmo is easier to say. Look, Shaddow is getting mud on your favourite chair. Good boy, you’ve been trained well.” He bowed his head at the dog in respect.

_If he were such a good boy, he’d have eaten me by now_ , Guillermo thought in dismay. There might not be anything trapped in his colon right now, but he’d likely end up in the hospital in a panic-induced coma if he didn’t calm down soon.

“Are you trying to summon a bloody genie, there?” Laszlo said, his focused turned back to his housemate. “I’d advise against it; they’re worse than necromancers. Very good con artists.”

It was only then that Guillermo realised what he was doing, and he moved on to the mantlepiece. Laszlo was watching him with an open-mouthed, bewildered scowl. “You’re not sick, are you? If you’re going to vomit, I’d rather you not do it in here. I accidentally killed our familiar so there’d be nobody else to clean it up if you’re suddenly incapacitated.”

“You killed your familiar?” For just a second, Guillermo’s mind was wiped of last night’s events. “How did you manage to do that when you’ve all been asleep?”

“The idiot came in to dust our room this morning and found my cursed hat. She must have tripped and knocked over our vase; you know, the porcelain amphora with the erotic Egyptian kings? Well it smashed, she slipped on one of the broken pieces, and went down. I came out to investigate, and found her with an inch-long ceramic cock sticking out of her skull.”

Guillermo raised his eyebrows. “She was killed by an inch of porcelain?”

“Of _course_ not.” Laszlo made a face that told Guillermo he was questioning the human’s intelligence. “I stabbed her in the heart with a dagger. That was our favourite vase.”

“Oh…” Guillermo swallowed hard and went back to his dusting, the dread creeping back into his stomach. Nandor was a far more forgiving master, but this was unfamiliar territory he’d gotten himself into.

“Laszlo!” A voice screeched from somewhere in the house. Laszlo ducked his head while Shaddow perked up his. Angry clicking footsteps came drifting into the room, getting closer and closer by the second.

“Here we go,” Laszlo muttered.

“Laszlo, what the fucking fuck did _you do!_ ” Nadja came bursting through the curtains, her red lips set in a snarl. She pointed an accusing finger at the ceiling, in the general direction of the bedroom. “I wake up to find you gone, and a complete catastrophe in your place.”

“Darling, she had to go--”

“She? I’m talking about the vase, you fool. That was my favourite!”

“Yes, Nadja, it was mine too,” Laszlo said, his voice placating, as if he had perfectly rehearsed for this reaction. Guillermo was envious; the most he could possibly get out right now was a yelp. “That stupid girl broke it, so naturally I had to kill her.”

“She was wearing that _fucking_ hat!”

Laszlo shrugged, _what can you do?_ “I didn’t give it to her.”

Nadja growled and slumped down in the lounge beside Guillermo’s commandeered chair. “Gizmo, where is Nandor?” she mumbled.

Guillermo really did yelp now. “I-I don’t…I think he’s still asleep.”

“Well why haven’t you woken him? You know he gets prickly when he sleeps late.”

Guillermo took a sharp intake of breath and said the first thing that came to mind. “I thought he might be tired.” He continued dusting, feeling the other vampires’ eyes boring into the back of his head.

“ _Useless_ ,” Laszlo exclaimed after a moment’s silence. “You know, Gizmo, if you were my familiar, I’d have killed you by now.”

“Quiet, Laszlo.” That was _not_ Nadja’s voice.

Guillermo froze. His heart stopped. He was faintly aware of the duster’s handle digging painfully into his palm as he clutched it to his chest. From somewhere behind him came the soft sound of a cape dragging against carpet.

“Guillermo is _my_ familiar,” Nandor continued. “Only _I_ can decide whether to kill him.”

“Well _your_ familiar appears to be unwell,” Laszlo said, almost accusingly.

“Guillermo, is this true?” A pause, and then, “Turn around.”

Guillermo tossed the duster onto the now-spangling mantle and swallowed the lump in his throat. He turned to find three vampires staring at him, all wearing the same expression: the half-disgusted, half-concerned grimace one makes when waiting for a drunken friend to throw up. Nadja and Laszlo were seated side-by-side, and Nandor was hovering by the doorway indecisively.

“Yeeuuk, Guillermo,” he admonished **.** “You look _terrible_. You’re almost as pale as Nadja.”

“Yes, I don’t think that’s healthy for a human with your complexion,” Nadja agreed.

“I’d let you take the night off but, you know, you changed your free day.” Nandor’s grimace imitated an apology as he shrugged.

Guillermo took a deep, shaky breath. He tried to exhale all of his anxiety, but it didn’t work. “That’s okay, Master,” he said. “I don’t have much more to do tonight.”

“The cell is clean?” Nandor asked.

“Did you find some virgins for tomorrow night?” Laszlo joined in.

“Laszlo, please!” Nandor snapped, glaring at his vampiric companion before turning back to his familiar. “Did you find the virgins for tomorrow night?”

“Three, Master. One for each of you.” Guillermo allowed himself a proud smile. This was safe territory; _familiar_ territory, so to speak. There had been a virgin drought in the area the past few weeks, the vampires having to fill themselves on tainted blood. Three in one night was sure to get a reaction.

And it did. Laszlo’s eyebrows rose, and Nadja hummed with anticipation. Something dark flashed in Nandor’s eyes that made Guillermo weak at the knees. It was the first time he allowed himself to look his master in the eyes for longer than half a second.

“Guillermo,” Nandor purred, pleasantly surprised. “Well done.”

“There’s a new comic convention coming up over in Manhattan,” Guillermo quickly explained, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. “The closer hotels are booked out, so there’s lots of virgins trickling into the area.”

“A convention!” Laszlo exclaimed.

Nadja growled with lust. “A _feast_! Oh Laszlo, we will have to invite them all around for dinner.”

“A dinner party, yes.” Her husband rubbed his hands together deviously.

“There’s going to be, like, thousands of people at this convention,” Guillermo said.

Nadja groaned. “We will host the most spectacular dinner party this house has ever seen!”

“Speaking of dinner,” Nandor said, bowing slightly to his companions. “Shall we go find some food?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

There was no need for a response; the other two were on their feet in an instant. Nadja was nearly trembling with barely-contained anticipation. They pushed past Nandor and disappeared out the doorway, the curtain swinging closed behind them.

Suddenly they were alone.

“Guillermo?” Nandor said.

Guillermo willed himself to keep breathing. Slowly.

“Yes, M-Master?”

“If you finish your work early, would you please wipe down my coffin. I found a big mosquito in there earlier and when I killed it blood went everywhere. I don’t even know how it got in there.” He made to leave then, but just as his foot settled on the threshold, he turned back. Guillermo stood at attention, his stomach doing flips again. “Oh, and make sure you dry it _properly_ this time. The lining got all sweaty last time and I woke up with damp hair. It was very uncomfortable.”

“O-of course, Master,” Guillermo whispered, eyes darting to his shoes timidly.

And then Nandor was gone.

He wanted to scream. In fact, he tried, once he was back in the privacy of his own bedroom, with a pillow stuffed over his face. He really didn’t need any commentary from Colin Robinson right now, who was probably stalking quietly around the house looking for him. Instead of a scream, though, all that came out was a strangled, forced exhale, followed by a sob. He sank onto his bed, letting the angry tears fall.

What had he expected? Did he think Nandor was going to come along and sweep him off his feet, catching him in a passionate kiss – in front of the other vampires no less? He’d even told himself last night not to get his hopes up; that returning to normalcy would be a _good_ thing. That at least it meant he wouldn’t be kicked out of the house by a shamefaced vampire. But he couldn’t keep the frustration from swallowing him. It was as if last night hadn’t happened at all. Aside from one or two strange looks that could have meant _anything_ , Nandor hadn’t shown any indication that he even remembered what had transpired between them.

A thought crossed Guillermo’s mind, then. Was his master in denial? Had he somehow convinced himself that he’d dreamt the whole thing, in an attempt to stave off any awkwardness that now hung between him and his familiar? How was Guillermo supposed to react to that? Should he be thankful?

He groaned and threw his pillow – the pillow that Nandor had gifted him, after leaving the previously-gifted pillow in the snow – against the wall behind him as hard as he could. It puffed sadly and sagged into the bedcovers. Guillermo felt like doing the same; letting the bed swallow him while he sunk into a long, deep slumber. But he had a coffin to clean.

“How fucking big was the mosquito?” he muttered to himself, wiping away long smears of half-dried blood. He had to work quickly; it already looked like it was going to stain. At least the cushioned lining was the right colour. He was almost certain that the blood hadn’t come from a mosquito, but he didn’t want to think about it. If Nandor had taken his food to bed with him…no, surely not. In his eleven years working for the vampire, he had never seen a body in his master’s coffin. _He hadn’t kissed anyone in four hundred years before last night,_ his brain reminded him.

There was no sign of a body, at least, and Nandor usually left the corpse-moving up to his familiar. There were no other…stains, either, to indicate that anything untoward had been going on. _See? You’re being ridiculous,_ he scolded himself. _Ridiculous_ and _jealous. It was just…an unnaturally big mosquito._ His thoughts turned idly to the mosquito club, and he shuddered. He’d dropped out of contact with the group, ignoring their calls and messages. But the thought that there were vampire hunters out there…that _he_ was one of them…

 _Maybe we’re just not meant to be together. Maybe it’s even for the best_. The thoughts came unbidden, and left him feeling gutted.

Sometime around two in the morning, Guillermo was awoken by the front door slamming open. Instinctively he reached for the wooden stake he kept by his bed, but as he curled his hand around it, he heard familiar bickering.

“I still say he would have made an excellent familiar. But you bloody went and ate him.”

“Laszlo, darling, he had arms like the legs of a chicken. Could you imagine him trying to drag a body to the cell?”

“That’s what Gizmo’s for,” Laszlo countered.

Guillermo rolled his eyes, suddenly awake.

“It’s _Guillermo_ , Laszlo,” Nandor corrected, much to Guillermo’s surprise. “And he is _my_ familiar. Go find your own to move your leftovers.”

“You’ve been very defensive of him lately,” Nadja observed.

“We could have had our own familiar, Nandor, if my dear wife hadn’t _drained_ him.”

Their arguments became too muffled to understand then, so Guillermo sunk further into his pillow, staring blindly into the darkness. He almost shrieked moments later, when there was a loud knock on the door.

“Guillermo? Are you awake?” It was Nandor.

Guillermo almost leapt out of bed and raced for the door, but he stayed himself for a few seconds, the rage from earlier smouldering in his stomach. When he did finally rise, he paced himself. Nandor had just finished knocking a second time when Guillermo opened the door. His plan was to act aloof and cold, but as soon as he saw the tall vampire standing in the place where they had kissed last night, his legs and stomach turned to mush. Nandor’s figure was mostly swamped by darkness, but his high cheekbones and hooked nose caught the same dim light that haloed his hair. His eyes held their usual preternatural gleam.

“Y-yes, Master?” He silently scolded himself for the way his voice quivered.

Nandor’s voice was low. “I have to apologise,” he said.

All anger suddenly fled from his body, making Guillermo’s head spin. Nandor reached out an arm, and gently pushed a large clump of fabric into his familiar’s hands. “I stepped in doggy doo again. It’s going to need a good scrubbing. You could leave it until morning, but it might be all dry and stuck by then.” He retrieved his hand, and both master and familiar stood watching each other for a moment. Guillermo’s throat was dry. He was gawking. His hands were shaking. He clenched his teeth together and breathed through his nose, slowly.

Nandor stepped away from the doorway. “Come, Guillermo. Help me get ready for bed.”

Guillermo set his jaw and swallowed his anger. As he closed the door behind him, his eyes unwittingly fell on the stake beside his bed.

[ ](https://ibb.co/K980K67)

_**Portrait I painted of Nandor for Twitter's SixFanarts challenge!** _


	2. Pest Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guillermo attempts to speak to Nandor about “the kiss”. Nandor’s himboness ensues. Then bad stuff happens :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather melodramatic chapter. Pretty sure I ripped this entire scene off of Days of Our Lives. Anyway, enjoyyyy

Guillermo folded Nandor’s silk cravat and placed it neatly on the little table beside the vampire’s vanity. His hands were steady, his breathing normal. He felt an unusual sense of calm washing over him as he listened to his master undress behind him. The calmness, he figured, was a result of the decision he’d made as he’d followed Nandor to his crypt.

Which was amusing, really, because what he was about to do was undoubtedly one of the most nerve-wracking decisions he had ever made.

He was going to talk to him about last night.

“Guillermo?” Nandor called gently. “You seem unhappy.”

Guillermo lifted his eyebrows incredulously as he turned to face his master. The vampire was stripped down to his white blouse, which opened in a V at the neck and revealed a chest of thick, dark hair. Guillermo had seen his chest hundreds of times over the years, but tonight it made his own chest tingle despite himself.

Yes, he was unhappy. He wanted nothing more than to go off on a rant, but for one, he had no idea what he’d actually say. And secondly, he knew it would just end in embarrassing tears. So instead, he stood his ground and said, “Can we talk? About last night?”

Nandor’s face twisted into a pout. “You are unhappy about last night?”

Some of the tension left Guillermo’s shoulders at that, and he felt a swell of confidence. So Nandor wasn’t denying him outright. “Yes,” he said, then quickly added, “No! I mean, not-”

“Yeugh, I _knew_ it,” Nandor groaned, lifting his hands in exasperation. “It was the cake, wasn’t it? I told Colin Robinson you would have preferred something with strawberries.”

“What?” Guillermo uttered, dumbfounded. “I don’t like strawberries.”

Nandor’s frown deepened. “Are you sure?” he asked at length.

Guillermo made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “I’m pretty sure. That’s not the point, anyway! The cake was fine.” He sighed and stepped towards the vampire, who at the same time took a step back. They walked like this until Nandor stumbled and dropped onto his chaise by the window. Guillermo took a tentative seat beside him. It was now or never. He had to get this conversation over with before he lost the last of his nerves. He shifted around to face Nandor. The vampire was leaning away from him, staring at him like he was a virus personified.

“I want to talk about the kiss,” Guillermo said firmly.

“The kiss?” Nandor muttered through clenched teeth. For a moment Guillermo really thought he had forgotten about it. The silence stretched on. They stared expectantly at each other until the tension was strong enough to crack the air. Nandor spoke up first. “Well? You want to talk about the kiss? Then talk.”

Guillermo would not start shaking. He would keep his back straight, his chin high. He would address this like a mature, confident adult. “How do you feel about what happened?”

Nandor watched him cagily, looking more and more like a trapped animal with each passing second. Guillermo couldn’t recall ever seeing him this uncomfortable, and that was saying something. But he wouldn’t balk now, and he wouldn’t let Nandor free until this was sorted. He had to see this through.

“I…don’t know?” the vampire said slowly.

Guillermo sighed. What did he expect? Nandor wasn’t exactly known for his openness about feelings. Or his ability to even feel feelings. He’d have to simplify his questions a little.

“Do you regret what happened?” he tried again. Butterflies were breeding in his stomach but he tried to ignore them. Their nervous fluttering would only cause him to want to flee.

More silence.

Had it been any other situation, Guillermo could have laughed at the look on his master’s face. This tall, strong warrior with his sharp fangs and thirst for blood was cowering against the armrest of the lounge, dismay painted all over his features. His expression was clear: he didn’t know how to answer.

Guillermo decided then and there that he had been patient for far too long. He was going to find out one way or another. “Here,” he said, and he leaned forward, placing a tentative hand on Nandor’s cold cheek. The vampire shivered under his light touch. Before Guillermo could decide what that meant, he was closing in on his master’s lips. They met with hesitancy, both minds sweeping back to last night, while their lips gently brushed over each other’s. Guillermo never thought in a million years he could instigate a kiss, especially at a time when their relationship was so precarious. Apprehension kept his touch light, even as Nandor sunk further down into the chaise’s cushions and didn’t break away. He was all but laying over his master now, his eyes closed and his heart thundering, one hand cupping a bearded cheek while the other clutched at the chair’s backrest for support. He was careful not to crowd his master, allowing the vampire some room for escape if he so desired. But it seemed as though he desired Guillermo’s touch more, because he was still returning the kiss, as awkward and unsure as it was.

It was up to Guillermo to break it. He didn’t move away immediately; he subtly bowed his head to breathe in the vampire’s familiar scent. Tonight, his smell invoked mental images of an ancient Turkish bazaar – from spices and salts to oils and perfumes, desert dust and coppery blood; it was a banquet for the senses. On occasions like tonight, Guillermo was almost certain that his master’s past left tangible remnants of itself on his person.

Their noses brushed and Guillermo wanted nothing more than to meet his lips again, but he pulled away and sat up to catch his breath. Nandor followed him into a half-sitting position; he was breathing heavily himself, which was usually an amusing thing to see a vampire do; but right now it just filled Guillermo with a primal desire.

“Well?” Guillermo choked out. He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t. His lungs were only just working again beneath the pressure of his heart.

They stared at each other for an excruciatingly long time, to the point it was unnerving. But then something sparked in Nandor’s eyes, as though his brain had finally caught up.

“Well, what?” he asked.

Guillermo held back the urge to scream. “Well, did you _enjoy_ _that_?” His voice came out far more exasperated than he’d intended. He scolded himself for being so impatient; thoughts and feelings were unfamiliar territory to Nandor. And, despite the fact that it was well-known that he’d pleasured other men during vampire orgies, he was a product of the Ottoman Empire: taught and expected to be strong, masculine, and certainly _not_ sentimental.

“I need to think about it,” Nandor said with finality. “And I think best when I am in my coffin.” His eyes were black though, and his voice strangely husky, and it gave Guillermo a tiny sliver of hope. His insides felt fuzzy.

“Of course, Master,” he said quickly, before rising to his feet. He forced a strained smile as he offered his hand to Nandor, then led him to his bed. They were silent as Guillermo helped him inside and he crossed his hands over his chest. Guillermo often found that the simple act of Nandor sinking into the safety of his coffin made him comfortable enough to open up a little, to speak his thoughts. It was during this minute or two each night that Guillermo often saw a different side to Nandor; a softer, more caring side. Tonight was no different.

“I know this must be frustrating for you,” Nandor offered, staring up at the ceiling as Guillermo reached for the coffin’s lid.

“Oh, no it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Quiet, Guillermo, I won’t have your lies.” There was little rebuke in his voice, but his eyes flicked to his familiar sternly. “You are upset with me because I am being indecisive. But this is a confusing time for me, and I need time to think about things.”

 _It’s a damn confusing time for us both_ , Guillermo thought, but didn’t dare say aloud. “It’s okay, Master. Really. I’m patient.” He forced another smile.

Nandor always looked so vulnerable in his coffin, capsulated by its cosy, padded lining. He exuded the innocence of a child staring up at his caretaker from his little graveyard cot. It was bewildering, if not strangely endearing.

Nandor returned Guillermo’s smile, and it reached his eyes. “Yes, you are.”

Sometime in the late afternoon, Nandor was rudely awoken by a loud buzzing in his ear. Something was flittering around his face, tickling his skin, soft as tissue paper. He groaned and tried to blow it away. It came buzzing back to his ear, as if to tell him a secret, but this time he was ready for it and smacked it against the inside of his coffin. Droplets of blood splattered his face and he groaned in disgust.

“Not another fucking mosquito! Guillermo? Guillermo!”

Guillermo was in the cell, making it comfortable for tonight’s _guests_. Corps of Onyx – an occult-based podcast – played in his headphones as he chewed grape-flavoured gum and swept up bones, all of which had been stripped of their meat. Apparently Shaddow liked to feast on the vampires’ leftovers.

The dog had followed his master into the dreary cell, tail held high and ears pricked back on high alert while he sniffed importantly around the room’s perimeter. He could sense his human companion’s restiveness, and judging by how many times the man had almost died lately by simply _cleaning_ , he had to remain vigilant or there’d be yet another accident. He could slip in another puddle of human blood, for example. Or once again encounter the roaring long-nosed monster.

Guillermo finished sweeping, then stood in the centre of the cell, arms akimbo, trying to figure out how he could make the room seem less…torture-chambery. The floor was cold, hard concrete that was permanently stained red. The walls were a grotesque, abstract mural of limescale and lichen, accentuated with splatters of long-dried blood that could easily have been mistaken for paint. Very contemporary. He could bring one of the older chaise lounges down here, or maybe two. Cover them with piles of unused blankets for protection. Plastic wrap would protect the fabric better, but the virgins might get suspicious.

He wanted to do a good job for his master. The thought made him feel pathetic, but it was true; Nandor’s rare praise was one of the only things that kept him going. And with how queasy his stomach had been all day, he needed it now more than ever. The vampires had been noticeably excited about the prospect of drinking pure blood after so many weeks (they hadn’t stopped shutting up about it), so Guillermo wanted to make it as special as possible. Besides, it was nice to do something for the strangers that would be sharing their last moments alive in this cold, dingy cellar. Did they have any coloured lights stored away?

“Guillermo!” Nandor yelled from the other side of the house. “Where are you? Bring me the Insect Raider!”

Shaddow pricked up his ears at the sound of the vampire’s voice. He gave a low growl. Guillermo didn’t hear it, but he saw the dog’s jowls bunch up, and he followed his gaze to the top of the basement’s slim staircase. He slid his headphones onto his shoulders, the presenter’s discussion about witches forgotten.

“Shaddow?” he called softly, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. A terrible thrill raced over his scalp as he watched the dog’s own hackles rise. A moment later, they heard a yell and a crash. Shaddow was gone in a blur, a deep bark thundering from his throat as he hurtled up the steps. Guillermo threw his headphones off, tearing them out of his phone in the process, and threw them on the concrete ground. He raced after Shaddow, all fear and panic replaced by a fierce protectiveness for his vampire companions. He was in hunting mode.

“Guillerm-!” Nandor’s call for help was cut short by a pained yowl. There was more crashing. Shaddow howled. Guillermo flew into the dark foyer and skidded to a halt, scanning the large room for his master. In the glow of the candelabras, he spotted Nandor cowering in a corner, swatting away a small, buzzing cloud. “These…fucking… _mosquitoes_!” He shrieked.

Guillermo let out a long sigh and told his heart to slow down. Shaddow was on the job, leaping into the air and catching the tiny insects in his chops, letting out little barks here and there. Globules of blood spurted through the air and splattered on anything nearby; far more blood than what should have been possible coming out of little insect bellies. Guillermo briefly contemplated the circus his life had become.

Nandor spotted his familiar and staggered to his feet quickly. “Guillermo!” he yelled. “Where _were_ you? Where is the canned Raider?” He ducked beneath the cloud and edged away from it, keeping to the shadows. Much to his dismay, the cloud followed, buzzing angrily.

“What in the living fuck is going on down there?” Laszlo’s voice blasted from somewhere high. “Your racket has Nadja speaking in tongues in her sleep.”

Guillermo spun around and looked up at the balcony, shrugging open-handedly. “We have mosquitos,” he said simply. His master cursed loudly in reply. There was another hard thud, and then he came staggering out into the candelabra’s light covered in other peoples’ blood; dangerously close to the front door. “They’re in my hair!”

Guillermo raced over to guide him back to the shadows, all the while swatting at the droning cloud.

Laszlo scowled down at them, miffed. “Well turn down the volume, ladies. Let my wife sleep or we’ll all know about it later.” Guillermo watched him from the corner of his eye disappear back into the shadows on the second floor. His main focus was on the commotion before him; both Nandor and Shaddow were growling and grabbing at the air.

“I’ll get the Raid. Just stay in the shadows, Master,” Guillermo instructed. He shook his head tiredly and walked to the doorway that would take him to the kitchen and to the insect spray. But before he left the foyer, there was a palpable change of pressure in the air. The nape of his neck tingled, and his arms broke out in goosebumps. Shaddow growled, and then whined. Guillermo spun around, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

There was an audible _whoosh_ as the air made way for an inexplicable figure: a mosquito behind Nandor had exploded into vapour, and in its wake stood a bald, cloaked vampire. The remaining mosquitoes began to morph as well, into identical Nosferatu visages – sharp teeth, scarlet eyes, high collars. Within the blink of an eye, Nandor was surrounded. But Guillermo hardly noticed the ring of vampires; his eyes were glued to that first vampire, who was hunched behind Nandor. There was something sharp and glinting cradled in its hands.

Shaddow snarled and lunged at one of the vampires, and that spurred Guillermo into action. He raced headlong towards them, a throat-splitting yell escaping his lips. He had no weapon, no holy water or stake, only his useless body. But it was _his_ job to protect his master, whether that meant kicking or punching or biting or even just distracting. He would do anything. Try _anything_ to keep him unharmed.

Even though he knew it would be in vain.

He wasn’t fast enough; nobody could have covered the distance in the milliseconds before that sharp metal rod was thrust into Nandor’s back, escaping out his chest and sending a long streak of vampire blood halfway across the room. Nandor looked down at the rod momentarily, and then it was torn from his chest, spraying more blood onto the figures around him. Nandor didn’t look back up. He clutched at his chest a moment, before crumpling to the floor.

Time seemed to slow then. The edges of Guillermo’s vision fogged over, and all sound became muffled. He was hardly aware of Shaddow’s snarls and barks, or of his own scream. His body was moving on its own now, his brain deciding to shut off and ignore everything that wasn’t that ring of vampires.

He threw himself into the fray. The creatures engulfed him, pale hideous faces swimming in an ocean of black fabric. Their claws scratched his face and neck while their fangs snapped viciously, red eyes wide and burning. These monsters were the only things that existed to Guillermo right now. Them, and Nandor. But his numb brain didn’t let him dwell on what he’d just witnessed. He was determined to survive, and in doing so, help his master.

Nadja and Laszlo were shouting nearby. Guillermo wasn’t aware that they’d dragged Nandor’s limp body away; nor that Laszlo had grabbed one of Nandor’s decorative battle axes, all the while yelling that he had no bloody idea how to use it. He wasn’t even aware that Shaddow was now barricaded in the dark circle with him, tearing at any piece of flesh his sharp teeth could find.

Guillermo was beginning to tire. Sweat poured down his face. His punches were softening, his legs slowing. His throat felt raw from the exertion, and there was a tight ball in his chest. So far he’d managed to keep the vampires from biting him, but he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. The realisation filled him with dread…and the sound of Nandor’s voice in his head, as clear as it was on the night of his birthday: “ _If something were to go wrong…if you were to bleed out…that would be my last memory of you.”_

Then it was all over.


	3. Unheavenly Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Cutting (non-suicidal, it’s for Nandor’s sake). Mentions of implied suicide.
> 
> In which Colin actually does something helpful…unintentionally, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Cutting (non-suicidal, it’s for Nandor’s sake). Mentions of implied suicide.
> 
> The vampires are a little OOC in this chapter, but their TLC is warranted, because poor Nandor. More Days-Of-Our-Lives melodrama, but I promise Nandor will be back to his dumb himbo-ish self soon enough. 
> 
> I had to dig down deep into repressed memories of my brief nursing career for this chapter…you’re welcome
> 
> I hope the fic hasn't been too boring so far, I promise there will be Nandermo action in the coming chapters!
> 
> Edit: very minor edit to Bryson's hours, because I didn't want to torture him with a 24 hr shift.

_Oh, pretty angel, swinging from your cable  
I fear, my dear, the end is near  
So run, run, run, run, run like a son of a gun  
Did anybody teach you better?  
To obey and follow to the letter  
I fear, my dear, the end is here  
So run, run, run, run, run like a son of a gun_

**Unheavenly Creatures – Coheed & Cambria**

“Hey dudes, what’s—” Colin stopped dead in his tracks as a column of fire erupted eight feet into the air before him. Unearthly shrieks filled the foyer as the column quickly dispersed. Blackening bodies ran from pillar to post, arms flailing madly. Colin adjusted his glasses. “Wow.”

Within moments the fire was smouldering, leaving an impressive scorched ring on the Persian rug **.** Surprisingly, the rest of the room was untouched, the fire localised to the half-dozen charcoaled bodies seized up and lifeless on the floor. Guillermo and Shaddow had been crouching inside the ring of fire, Guillermo hugging the massive corso close to his chest. His hair was scorched, but some miracle had kept his clothes from catching alight. The moment the coast was clear, he bounded to his feet and rushed over to the shadows by the stairs, where he knew his master and fellow housemates were concealed. Colin followed casually behind, but not before he nudged one of the dead vampires with his shoe. Its face crumbled into soot.

“They weren’t important, were they?” he asked as he rounded the corner where the others were kneeling. Upon seeing Nandor, his face dropped, letting out a sliver of alarm. “Uh oh.”

Guillermo’s heart was in his throat. He choked back tears as he pushed past a fretting Nadja and fell to Nandor’s side. Laszlo had removed his companion’s blouse and used it to mop up the blood clotting on his chest. Guillermo tried to take his master’s hand, but his master weakly pushed him away.

“Stop fussing,” he mumbled. “I’m fine. It missed my heart.” He wriggled away from Laszlo and tried to sit up, wincing in pain.

“Don’t move, you silly pillock!” Nadja reproved.

“Look,” Nandor gestured to the place the stake had pierced him only minutes ago, trying to put on his best grin. There was no sign of a wound. “I’m already healed.”

“You’re still healing inside,” Laszlo said, his voice uncharacteristically stern. “And you’ve lost a lot of blood, chap.”

Guillermo slumped with relief. The adrenaline was wearing off, its absence bringing forth tears that he didn’t bother suppressing. Within seconds he was a snivelling mess.

Nadja seemed to notice him then. “Gizmo! Call those virgins and tell them to get here _now_!”

“I can’t do that,” Guillermo blubbered. “They’re staying at a hotel half an hour away!”

“We need them, Gill-ermo! Nandor needs to replenish the blood he has lost!” Nadja’s voice was full of a desperation that Guillermo had never heard; but what surprised him even more was that she had called him by his real name. The gravity of the situation hit him full-force just then. Before now, this whole thing had seemed like a terrible dream, hazy and surreal. Now it all caught up to him with what felt like a punch in the guts.

“Give him your neck, lad,” Laszlo suggested.

“Yes, give him your neck!” Nadja chorused.

The idea had already crossed Guillermo’s mind. _He needs blood,_ he thought urgently. _Virgin blood._

“ _No_ ,” Nandor insisted feebly. “I will not bite Guillermo…too many arteries...I can’t let him…” he trailed off, attempting to preserve some dignity while he lay there dying.

Without a second thought, Guillermo leapt to his knees and launched up the staircase, ignoring Laszlo’s loud “And where the hell are you going?”

He heard Shaddow’s footsteps and panting behind him, and absentmindedly resolved to buy him a special treat later. He hurried into the bathroom adjacent Laszlo and Nadja’s bedroom; the one that the vampire couple shared. Laszlo was an old-fashioned fellow, and on the occasions that Guillermo had been ordered to clean their bathroom, he had spied an old-fashioned barber’s razor. He opened the medicine cabinet, only to be met with a bottle of cologne and a pair of trimming scissors. The scissors would be too blunt. He tried the vanity unit’s drawers: the first contained an assortment of creams and hair gel; the second a blowdryer and a rather lengthy dildo. The third drawer provided him with what he needed. Guillermo snatched up the straight razor and raced back to his master, Shaddow on his heels.

He sunk to his knees beside Nandor, bracing himself for the pain. Laszlo and Nadja spotted the razor at once.

“Whoa, lad,” Laszlo said quickly. “Don’t be too hasty, now. That razor belonged to my beloved great grandfather. I don’t want your blood tainting-”

“Oh, shut it, Laszlo!” Nadja hissed. She met the familiar’s eyes decisively. Her own eyes said _do it_.

Guillermo had already rolled up his sleeve. With a sharp intake of breath, he slashed the blade over his forearm, cutting through brachial artery and nerves, down to the bone. His breathing began to hasten in panic. There was no pain at first; the razor was sharp enough to leave a clean cut, but something in Guillermo’s head knew that the numbness would be short-lived. The sight of blood welling up from the wound made him swoon, and he felt suddenly nauseous. He thrust his arm in front of Nandor’s lips. “Drink,” he ordered.

Nandor hesitated. He was as pale as Guillermo had ever seen him, his eyes sunken and ringed with wine-coloured bruises. Guillermo clenched his teeth and smeared the blood on Nandor’s lips, all the while pumping his hand and encouraging the blood to swell forth.

One taste and Nandor lost all restraint. He grabbed Guillermo’s arm and twisted it painfully, eliciting a cry from the man. His teeth scraped raw flesh while his tongue probed even deeper. It was excruciating; the pain came in lightning-fast jolts now. Nandor sucked and lapped at Guillermo’s arm like a starving infant at a teat, oblivious to Guillermo’s pained yowls. The razor lay discarded on the floor, and Laszlo picked it up and wiped it on his coat, clearly vexed. Nadja was watching on with her teeth clenched and bared; if anyone were to look her in the eye right now, they would see a bloodlust unlike any other. But she somehow kept herself in check.

Guillermo’s shoulder was beginning to ache from the angle, so he shifted around to lean on his free elbow next to Nandor. He was starting to feel faint. The vampire wouldn’t let him go, though. He was groaning and growling with unadulterated _want_ ; his voice thick and primal. Aside from the noises he made, and the occasional pained whimper from his familiar, the room was completely silent. Everybody looked on in nervous anticipation; even Colin Robinson seemed at a loss for words. He hung back, keeping an eye out for any more trespassers **,** deciding that now was not the time to feed despite the fact that their psychic energy would be an absolute _smorgasbord_.

Greasy colours began to swim around the edges of Guillermo’s eyes. “I’m going to faint,” he slurred. But at this very moment, he didn’t care. All of the fear was gone from his body; even the pain in his wound had faded to a dull ache. His eyes were on his master, whose black eyes were now scintillating with undead life. He was recovering.

Nadja had noticed Nandor regaining life, too. “Maybe it’s time to stop now,” she said uncertainly.

Nandor growled, eyes flashing to her as he continued to drink.

Guillermo lazily tried to drop his arm away, but Nandor’s grip was inhumanly strong. His fingers were leaving bruises on his already-maimed skin.

“Nandor,” Nadja tried again. “I think you’ve had enough.”

Laszlo let out an exasperated sigh. “Go get the first aid kit, dear,” he said almost wearily. Nadja was on her feet in an instant. Laszlo took position behind Guillermo, grabbed him beneath the armpits, and wrenched him away from the vampire in one fluid motion. Nandor’s fangs left two more deep gashes as Guillermo’s arm was torn from his grip, and the familiar let out a loud shriek. He wrapped a weak hand around the wound and watched in dismay as blood pooled up between his fingers. “ _Mierda_ ,” he breathed, sinking into the fetal position. From somewhere far away he heard Nandor and Laszlo hissing at each other.

The haze briefly cleared as someone plucked his hand away from his arm and pressed a soft cloth against the wound. Guillermo glanced down to see Nandor’s nightshirt held firmly against his forearm. There was a tightness in his upper arm, too; what felt like a bandage. He felt safe and warm. The vampires’ panicked yelling had mellowed down to muffled, indecipherable murmurs. The floor was soft as satin clouds **.** He felt a goofy smile spread across his lips. His last thought before he blacked out was that his master was safe.

The next thing Guillermo felt was a sharp prick in the crook of his arm, but he ignored it and continued to slumber. A little while later, something clamped gently onto his index finger. He knitted his brow and let out an annoyed, drowsy moan, but he didn’t wake. His sleep was dreamless and comatose. Deathlike. There was no sense of time down here in this tranquil void; he could drift in this dark womb forever, ignorant and insubstantial. An eternity could pass and he would be blissfully unaware.

A high-pitched alarm clock finally woke him. He groaned miserably and tried to roll over, but a sharp pain in his arm stayed him. Instead, he turned his head to the side and blinked the crust out of his eyes, slowly opening them. Everything was a glaring blur, except for the alarm clock, which was tall and thin and flashing a tiny red light that hurt his sensitive eyes. He mumbled some complaint that was unintelligible even to him, and then his vision filled with a pinkish fuzz.

He felt something thin and cold on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes slowly adjusted with the help of his glasses. He let out a loud moan when the pink circle turned into Colin Robinson’s face.

“Hey, man,” Colin greeted, smiling his little smile. “Good to see you awake. We were really worried about you for a minute there.” Something in his voice told Guillermo that he had not been all that worried.

“Nand—“ He managed to choke out half the name, but his throat was raw.

“He’s fine. At home resting. He was here a little earlier with the others, but the sun will be up soon and they’d already overextended their visit past the allocated hours. Nandor yelled at the nurses for five minutes, told them you were his beloved adopted son. They eventually relented…heh. He lives up to his title.”

_Please shut up, Colin Robinson,_ Guillermo wanted to say, but he was too weak. And Colin wasn’t helping.

“Oh, here,” the energy vampire perked up a tad. “He left you these.”

For a moment Guillermo’s heart leapt as he imagined flowers. But then Colin lifted up a foam cup and reached into it. “Ice chips,” he explained, and pushed one through Guillermo’s lips. It was cold but felt heavenly as it melted on his dry tongue. The resulting water slid down his throat, soothing the pain. If only it could relieve the aches racking his entire body. His muscles screamed and his head throbbed, but worst of all was his arm: it felt on fire.

Colin seemed to sense his agony. “I could ask the nurses for more painkillers,” he offered. Guillermo shook his head weakly. As peaceful as his slumber had been, he no longer desired that feeling of death. And it seemed he’d already slept long enough. He glanced back at the IV drip and saw an empty bag hanging from its hook, a sickening shade of red.

“The beeping…” he whispered.

“Yeah, that happens when the bag runs empty,” Colin explained. Guillermo wasn’t after an explanation. He wanted the damn noise turned off. “There should be a nurse around soon to fix it. Though they seem to have a full plate today. Somebody must have said the Q word.” He snickered.

“Q…word?”

“’Quiet’,” said Colin. “You know, if you say it looks like it’s going to be a _quiet_ day, the nurses pounce on you because you’ve jinxed them. Hospitals are _great_ feeding grounds.” He’d near shouted the Q word.

“Maybe…go feed off some nurses…and tell them to stop this beeping _._ ”

“Yeah, I suppose I should go tell them you’re awake. They’ll probably want to check up on you. Make sure everything is in working order, so to speak.”

“ _Please_ ,” Guillermo implored; his voice stronger now.

Colin disappeared from sight and Guillermo relaxed a little. He allowed his thoughts to move back to Nandor, and delighted in the knowledge that his master was safe. Tears welled in his eyes and he sniffed them back, the taste of salt on his tongue.

A few minutes passed before a young man entered the room, clad in blue scrubs with a stethoscope slung around his neck. Colin was close behind, chattering away. The nurse looked exceedingly tired, though he did perk up a little upon seeing Guillermo awake.

“How you feeling?” he asked gently as he rounded the bed and pressed the button that blessedly ceased the beeping. He went to work unhooking the bag from the IV stand.

“Okay,” Guillermo replied hoarsely.

“Well, I guess that’s better than _not_ okay,” the nurse joked lightly. “Sorry, that was lame.” He moved to stand by Guillermo’s blanketed feet and took out a manilla folder from the basket hanging over the foot of the bed. He flicked through it briefly, reading Guillermo’s details.

“Just come on shift, eh?” Colin conversed from his seat by the window. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Nope,” the nurse said, trying to hide his aggravation. “Just came down from renal to cover a shift. Been here around 5 hours now.”

“Wow, that’s rough.” Colin’s eyes were turning a little bit blue.

“Patients here like-” he glanced at the chart. “- _Guillermo_ , make it a little easier though. I like the quiet ones.” He smiled at his patient, but his words were directed at Colin. Colin took the hint, but that just spurred him on.

“I had an aunt who was a nurse,” he mentioned. “She died at sixty, though. They say shift work takes five years off your life…”

“My name’s Bryson,” the nurse introduced finally, ignoring Colin’s incessant chatter. “I’ll be looking after you until they decide I’ve been punished enough for one day.”

Guillermo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He wanted to see Nandor. He wanted to see with his own eyes that his master was alive and well. But he’d have to wait until night, and the realisation filled him with despair. Bryson continued to read his chart, and something darkened his eyes for a moment. He replaced it, and glanced up at Guillermo briefly before turning to Colin. “Would you excuse us a moment, Mr—”

“Robinson,” the man said, getting to his feet. He reached out his hand for a shake, but the nurse didn’t return it. Colin shrugged and left the room, giving Guillermo a little wave and a smile on his way out.

Bryson took Colin’s chair and dragged it to Guillermo’s bedside, where he sat and regarded his patient for a moment. His face was soft but unreadable. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, of European blood; light blonde hair cut short, piercing blue eyes, a strong jaw and large angular nose. He was handsome, Guillermo decided, and seemed like the type of guy who the younger – and possibly older – nurses would pine over. 

“Look,” Bryson said finally, “I’m not a specialist in mental health – those guys will be around to see you later. But if you want to talk about it, about anything that’s troubling you, I’ve got time to listen.” He paused for a moment and let out a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t really have time, but screw the big guys. I’m taking this shift easy.”

Guillermo’s stomach had dropped at the nurse’s implication. “Oh,” he said softly. “No, it’s not like that…”

“You don’t have to hide it, Guillermo,” Bryson said gently. “This conversation is fully confidential. Nobody has to know. Not even your family.”

_My family,_ Guillermo thought amusedly. Bryson obviously didn’t know his only _family_ was a bunch of weirdo goths. Or perhaps it was written on his chart: _Dysfunctional family. Some kind of vampire fetish._

An idea popped into Guillermo’s head. “I was attacked,” he said quickly. “By a…a-” he almost said raccoon, but then thought of a future filled with rabies shots. “A dog bit me.”

Bryson sighed through his nose, unconvinced. “I’ve seen this kind of thing plenty of times. Don’t be ashamed to reach out and talk to somebody. Even if it’s not me; even if it’s a complete stranger.”

“Okay,” Guillermo said with a shaky sigh. The memory of Nandor’s bite was making him teary again, which certainly didn’t help the current picture Bryson was painting of him. “I’ll talk to the…the mental health people.” It was probably for the best that the staff suspected an attempted suicide. Trying to convince them of anything else was too much work right now, and risked more needles.

Bryson nodded with a smile and stood up, replacing the chair. “I’m just going to go get the vitals machine, then I’ll be back to make sure everything is normal. You’ve lost a lot of blood, so your blood pressure was a little iffy for a while, judging by your chart.” Before Guillermo could reply, the nurse walked out.

Minutes later, Guillermo grunted as he willed his body into a half-seated position, Bryson assisting. The nurse adjusted his patient’s cannula, explaining that although he didn’t need more blood, they’d keep it in there in case of an emergency.

“Have any family visiting today?” he asked casually as he placed a pulse oximeter on his finger and a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm, on the uninjured side.

“Tonight,” Guillermo replied, his voice hopeful. He’d perked up a little upon sitting up, but kept quiet as Bryson checked his vitals and placed the stethoscope’s freezing diaphragm beneath the collar of his gown. Guillermo shivered at the contact.

“Sorry for the cold,” Bryson said, noticing. Guillermo decided he liked this nurse. But his mind was now on his stomach, which was grumbling unhappily. Bryson noticed that, too, and grinned. “I’ll get somebody to bring you something to eat. Any dietary preferences or needs?”

“Anything that isn’t blood,” Guillermo quipped, gesturing to the empty bag resting on the bedside.

Bryson laughed. “Well, I can cross vampire off your chart, then,” he said. “I’ll take that bag away for you. _And_ your friend out there, if you’d like to rest.”

Guillermo nodded his thanks, but his smile wavered. He was pretty certain now that there was something about his ‘family’ written on his chart. He sunk into his mattress, a little embarrassed.


	4. Bryson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor is jealous of Guillermo’s nurse. Guillermo takes notice and decides to torture him just a little…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Jujubeans for giving me the idea for Guillermo's boxer shorts design
> 
> I wanted to give a heartfelt thanks to all you wonderful people who have been commenting on and liking my writing. I grin like an idiot whenever I read comments. Even if I don’t reply to them all, I read and love each and every one! You all keep me going! 
> 
> I've written a couple more chapters after this, but am still editing those. There will be at least 3 more chapters after this one.

Guillermo wanted to sleep the day away, but every time he closed his eyes, they immediately snapped back open, stinging. His brain played out the past twenty-four hours like a movie on repeat. Physically, he was still aching and exhausted. Mentally, he was wide awake. His phone sat dead on the bedside table, its battery long-discharged. So he spent much of the day watching terrible soap operas and even cornier daytime movies on the tiny TV bracketed in the corner of the little room. Bryson would come in every couple of hours to check his vitals, but other than that the only visitors were meal deliveries and, briefly, a psychologist.

As the afternoon dragged on, the butterflies in Guillermo’s stomach grew into sparrows, until he could hardly sit still any longer. He’d been getting up throughout the day to sit in the chair by the window. He was on the third or fourth floor, but the view only looked out onto more stark white buildings and a partially-covered walkway frequented by little, busy people. He wanted to do something; and not just sit in a chair. Guillermo swung his legs over the side of the bed and pressed the call button. He sat patiently but nervously, fingering the little plastic identification bracelet around his uninjured wrist. He was all too aware that there was nothing under his gown except for his blue plaid boxers. They gave him little comfort; in fact, he was rather embarrassed by them. If he’d had the foresight to see that he’d end up in hospital being looked after by a hot nurse, he’d have at least worn his black satin pair.

Minutes passed before there was a brief knock and Bryson entered. He slung his stethoscope around his neck and smiled. He looked beyond tired, yet his eyes held a kindness that warmed Guillermo’s clammy skin. “What can I do for you?” he asked, sounding more awake than he looked, at least.

“Can I take a shower?” Guillermo asked. He felt his cheeks reddening stupidly.

“Sure can,” Bryson replied. He walked over to the foot of the bed and read Guillermo’s chart. “I think we can take the cannula out of your arm now. We’ll keep those bandages on, though, so I’ll get you something to keep them dry.” He replaced the folder and looked at his patient. “I’ll get you some towels. Your family might even bring clothes for you. The ones you were wearing when you came in…” he trailed off with a little sympathetic shrug. Guillermo didn’t have to be told. He’d seen them piled on one of the chairs and knew immediately that nothing was going to get those bloodstains out. Not to mention they were singed and torn.

“When will I be going home?” he asked as he got to his feet, careful to keep his bare back pointed in the opposite direction to his nurse.

“That’s up to the doctor on shift,” Bryson said. “But I think you’ll get the all-clear tomorrow morning.” He gave a wink, and then left to get the towels, shutting the door gently behind him.

Towels acquired, Guillermo ran the hottest shower his skin could handle and savoured the feeling of scalding water cascading over his sore body. His bandages were protected by a taped-up plastic sheet, and he silently thanked Bryson for that; he could duck completely under the showerhead. He washed and then stood beneath the water, relaxing, letting it trickle through his hair; over his shoulders; into his eyes. He tasted it on his dry tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a shower so much. He could stay here all night.

But all too soon there came a firm knock on the door, and Guillermo startled, snapping shut the flimsy curtain. The door opened and he heard Bryson’s affable voice. “Sorry to disturb you, Guillermo, but you have visitors.”

If Guillermo’s heart was already racing, it was now galloping at full speed. “Thank you,” he said, a little too breathlessly, and listened for the door to click shut. Then he turned off the shower and dried, straining to hear what was going on outside the door. Nandor’s voice was unmistakable; a sonorous battle horn beside Bryson’s saxophone-esque timbre. He couldn’t hear anybody else, and his stomach flipped at the thought that they were alone in that room. What sort of asinine conversation was Nandor striking up with the poor nurse? _Please don’t embarrass_ me.

He dressed as quickly as he could – which didn’t take long, considering his lack of clothing in the first place. Bryson had given him a clean gown on top of the towels, which he was thankful for. The last gown had emanated the sickening stench of blood. At the last moment before exiting the bathroom, his brain reminded him that there was a split in the back of the gown. He could _probably_ make it back to his bed without revealing his blue plaid…

“Ah!” Bryson said upon seeing Guillermo. “Here’s my favourite patient.” He flashed a brilliant smile, but Guillermo didn’t notice. His eyes immediately locked onto Nandor’s, and they stood a room apart, gazing silently at each other. After a moment, Guillermo felt Bryson watching them, so he tore his eyes away and hurried to his bed. Before he could reach it, though, Nandor closed the distance between them. He stretched his arms out, a strangely robotic movement.

“Guillermo?” he said, a question in his voice. His face was unreadable. Guillermo looked at his outstretched arms and felt a lump rising in his throat. He gingerly lifted his own arms and they met in a clumsy hug. Nandor patted his back awkwardly, his hand cold but gentle against his familiar’s bare skin. Guillermo took the opportunity to breathe in his master’s warm scent and commit it to memory, all the while telling himself that he _wasn’t_ going to cry.

He was alive. Nandor was alive.

Bryson cleared his throat lightly, prompting the two to break apart. “Looks like dinner is on its way. I’d better check your vitals beforehand, so I won’t have to disturb you.” He gave them a smile and nodded, then left for the machine.

The door shut, and Guillermo climbed back into bed, suddenly tired. Nandor remained where he was, watching his familiar guardedly, as though he were facing a wild animal. His hands twitched at his sides.

Guillermo tried to defuse some of the vampire’s concern with a drowsy smile. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said.

Nandor opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Yes, well…” he trailed off hesitantly, unsure what to say. His eyes darted everywhere except towards his familiar. “We are looking forward to having you home. The foyer needs a deep cleaning.” He walked idly to the chair by the window, and dragged it a little closer to the bed before settling down. He was dressed in his usual attire; natural tones of umber and tan: a fur cape draped over a belted brocade vest, underneath which a white blouse peeked through. His hair was slightly tangled and hung dull and loose; he had always been fairly mediocre at brushing. In the glare of the ceiling light, his skin was pasty, the dark circles under his eyes a sickly contrast. Still, he was alive, and as fearsome as ever. Guillermo openly gazed at him, his chest swelling with adoration.

“What did Bryson say to you?” he asked after some time.

Nandor blinked. “Bryson?”

“The nurse,” Guillermo said quickly, feeling his face heat up again.

“Oh, him?” Nandor perked up and a proud grin spread across his face. “I thought he was going to _piss_ himself when he saw me. I asked him how you were, he said you were fine, then he ran away like a scared little lamb. I have seen field mice with more courage than him.”

Guillermo bristled at that. “He’s been really nice to me,” he said curtly, lifting his chin. “You know, there’s more to life than being strong and powerful.”

“I don’t like his smile,” Nandor snapped. “He has very straight teeth.”

Guillermo hid his own smile. Was Nandor _jealous_? Of his _nurse_? His thoughts wandered back to those nights they had kissed, and that all-too familiar coil of desire began unravelling deep within his stomach. It wasn’t strong enough to keep his nerves at bay, though.

A moment later the door opened again and Bryson wheeled in the vitals machine – a device that Guillermo was beginning to hate. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nandor straighten his back a little. The nurse hooked Guillermo up to the machine, then took his stethoscope and leaned over the bed to place it beneath the gown’s collar once again. Guillermo’s heart began to speed up and he cursed himself; Nandor would be able to hear it. Bryson’s face was very close. He gently moved the diaphragm around Guillermo’s chest. Their eyes met briefly and the nurse smiled, the sides of his eyes crinkling with warmth despite the tiredness in them.

A quiet, breathy growl rolled its way up Nandor’s chest and into his throat. Guillermo stole a glance at him and this time couldn’t hide his smile. The vampire’s eyes were dark; his teeth clenched. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his fingernails almost tearing into the beige cushioning.

“Heart’s a little fast,” Bryson noted, finally moving away. “But judging by your previous results, it’s nothing to worry about.” He checked the machine, wrote some notes in the chart, and then dinner arrived. Bryson took his leave, sharing a casual smile with Guillermo that wavered as his eyes slid to Nandor.

The middle-aged woman who brought his dinner set it down wordlessly on the little bedside table and left, but not before shooting Nandor a look of alarm. The vampire just glared at her.

“This _Bryson_ ,” he spat when they were alone again. “He is too cheerful. And he has dandruff. I do not know what you see in him, Guillermo.”

Guillermo gawked at his master, dropping his forkful of potato onto the plate with a clang that made him jump. “What I see in him? He’s my _nurse_ , Master. I don’t see _anything_ in him.”

“Don’t lie, Guillermo,” Nandor scolded. “I saw your eyelashes fluttering at him, like baby butterflies.” He made little flittering gestures with his hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Guillermo went back to eating.

Nandor looked extremely uncomfortable. He scuffed his boots on the linoleum and fidgeted with his hands, his eyes on his lap. “I should thank you,” he mumbled after a short silence. His words caught Guillermo off-guard and the fork almost slipped from his hand again. He stared, wide-eyed, as Nandor continued with a pout. “For saving me. Though you didn’t really do much about the vampires. Colin Robinson did that, and he has been gloating about it ever since. I could hear him gloating in my _sleep_.” He paused, and their eyes met briefly. Guillermo could tell there was something else he wanted to say, so he kept quiet and nibbled at his overcooked roast beef without tasting it. His heart thudded loudly in his ears.

There was a knock at the door, causing them both to start. Guillermo’s stomach dropped in disappointment as the door opened and Bryson walked in with another nurse – a stout brunette lady in her thirties with beady eyes set in a red, doughy face. Of all the times they could have been interrupted…

One more glance at Bryson’s attractive grin and Nandor was on his feet, chest puffed out like a mulish pigeon. He had stood so quickly that the two nurses stopped in their tracks. They watched as he twisted here and there, pretending to stretch his arms and back as he deliberated. Guillermo let out a sigh through his nose. The nurses resumed their short walk to their patient, and Nandor quickly stepped forward and rounded the bed. He carefully sank down on the mattress by his familiar’s feet. He faced the nurses, blocking their view of their patient. His back was to Guillermo, so he didn’t notice the man roll his eyes.

Bryson introduced Guillermo to Sarah, the nurse who would be taking over his shift. Sarah gave him a closed-lip smile. “Nice to meet you, Guillermo,” she said, pronouncing his name “Gull-ear-mo”. She then addressed the broad, bearded man sitting at the end of his bed. “And you are? His father? A friend…?”

“His _master_ ,” Nandor said darkly, and Guillermo was almost certain he was flashing his fangs at them. He pushed his plate away, suddenly not hungry.

Bryson’s eyebrows rose and darted to Guillermo. “Oh,” he said in a small surprised voice. Sarah, on the other hand, didn’t seem impressed; clearly she’d heard far weirder things during the course of her career. Bryson began giving Sarah a handover report, and the two discussed Guillermo in quiet voices.

Nandor took the opportunity to face his familiar. Despite the uncertainty written in his expression, Guillermo saw a determination in those black eyes that made him go weak.

“Come home with me,” the vampire said.

Guillermo gawked at him. “What, now?”

“Yes!” Nandor grinned. “I will even fly you home.” He must have thought that would seal the deal, and Guillermo felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“They won’t let me go until tomorrow,” he said, noticing with a creeping anxiety that the nurses had stopped talking and were now regarding them curiously.

“Who is going to stop you?” Nandor said loudly. “This is no prison!”

Sarah piped up then, addressing the vampire. “Mister—uh--?”

Nandor shot daggers at the nurses and snapped, “ _Relentless_.”

Bryson and Sarah exchanged confused glances, and Guillermo wanted desperately to just scurry under his blankets and not come back out until he was discharged.

“Mister… _Relentless_ ,” Sarah said uncertainly. “It’s far better for Guillermo’s wellbeing if he stays here overnight and gets cleared by a doctor.” Her face softened into something of a smile, but Nandor huffed petulantly.

Guillermo racked his brains for something to say before Nandor could argue. “Is Laszlo and Nadja coming to visit?” he asked. He didn’t exactly want them here making things ever weirder and causing havoc, but he desperately needed to change the subject.

“They are out hunting,” Nandor said. “Those virgins never showed, and now that you’re in hospital and useless, we have to go find our own.”

_Oh God, why Guillermo…why did you ask._ He couldn’t bring himself to look at the nurses, who had stopped their discussion again in order to listen.

“Hunting, hey?” Bryson sounded as though he was very much looking forward to bed tonight. Surely the exhaustion was making him hallucinate. “What do they hunt? My brothers and I are entering the duck-shooting contest over at--”

“ _Virgins_ ,” Nandor interrupted waspishly. “Were you not listening to what I said?”

“Nand— _Master_ ,” Guillermo uttered, dying internally of embarrassment. “Please…”

“Well, time for me to clock off **,”** Bryson announced, and gave his co-worker a smile that said “Good luck!”, handing her the folder. Sarah’s returning smile was infinitely less cheery **.** Bryson turned to Guillermo. “Good luck with everything, buddy.”

Guillermo smiled, flushing. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Nandor got to his feet as both nurses headed to the door. “Yes, goodbye, _Bryson_. Until we meet again.”

Guillermo could make out the nurses’ voices just outside his door.

“Is he for real?” That was Sarah; though there wasn’t much surprise in her voice.

“Some kind of sadistic vampire fetish?” offered Bryson, his own voice curious.

Guillermo groaned and ducked his head in humiliation **.** He actually considered taking Nandor up on his offer to help him escape, but in his head he pictured all the possible scenarios in which he could lose his gown halfway home and reveal to the world his blue plaid boxers.

Colin Robinson arrived the next morning, bringing with him a set of clothes, much to his relief. At least _one_ of his housemates had thought to consider his dignity. Once dressed, he bundled up his soiled clothes, grabbed his phone, and got the all-clear from the doctor.

He welcomed the warmth of the sun and the crisp spring air as they made their way to the car. He also revelled in the feeling of warm, intact clothes against his skin. His arm was itching and inflamed and it took all his self-control to not scratch it. Colin was discussing the pros and cons of universal healthcare as they made their way to the Flex. Guillermo swung the keys in one hand idly, mostly ignoring him. Colin had offered to drive, citing Guillermo’s injured arm, but Guillermo couldn’t trust the one man who managed to block the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel.

In the car, he turned the radio high enough to drown out much of Colin’s talking. His thoughts turned to Nandor’s visit last night, and his heart did a stupid little flip. The vampire had been strangely quiet after the nurses had left, but Guillermo figured that was because he couldn’t command his familiar about. He did complain about the other vampires, but Guillermo was so tired he found himself drifting in and out of sleep. He remembered being pulled from his dream by a gentle, cold hand on his forehead, but he didn’t open his eyes. Instead he’d allowed himself to sink back into sleep, a little smile playing on his lips.

He wasn’t smiling now. His stomach was churning with nerves, and it only got worse the closer he got to home.

The scene Guillermo came home to was the same scene he’d left two days ago. The barbecued vampires still lay twisted and blackened on the scorched rug. Most of them were crumbling into piles of charcoal. The hardwood floor and rug were splattered and streaked with blood, which had stained almost black.

Guillermo had a lot of work to do.

But before he could dwell on it, a huge black shape came hurtling out of the dimness, whining loudly.

“Shaddow!” Guillermo dropped his bundle of clothes and knelt to receive his dog’s greetings. Shaddow was a slobbery mess, tail wagging fervently as he pressed his side against Guillermo and sagged to the floor, rolling over for belly rubs. Guillermo happily obliged, laughing. It was a nice feeling to have somebody waiting for him when he got home.

“Well, I gotta get back to work,” Colin said, looking at his watch. “Good luck with Nandor this evening. He hasn’t shut up about you.”


	5. Nandor the Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little chapter in which Laszlo tries to teach our beloved himbo how to ask somebody out on a date. It goes about as well as can be expected from these two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written from Nandor’s POV, because poor Guillermo needs a break from my torturing. Idk why I even wrote this chapter because the whole thing is a MESS.

Nandor was seething. He had not seethed this much since he had come back from battle and found his fifteenth wife polishing the boots of Dursun the Deceitful. Guillermo had _definitely_ been giving that nurse the fluttery eyes, and the nurse – what was his name? Brian? – had soaked it up like the filthy blonde-haired, blue-eyed sponge that he was.

Nandor’s head not only hurt due to the seething, but also because he was feeling confused and distressed. What were these conflicting emotions? Why was he so angry? He paced the empty library, fists clenched at his side, a little blue vein sticking out of his temple. He was sure his lip must be bleeding from all the absentminded nibbling he’d been doing while trying to get the mental gears going.

Guillermo had come home today, but Nandor was trying to avoid him. He had climbed out of his coffin the moment the sun was below the horizon, almost stumbling off the step in the process. He’d dressed himself and even brushed his own hair. As he’d left his room, he’d spied Guillermo walk out of the kitchen and open his mouth to say something. Nandor had made a break for the library, putting up a hand and growling, “Not now, Guillermo.”

Now he was in the library, feeling these unfamiliar feelings, and puzzling over one in particular that was eating away his anger and replacing it with sadness. He had seen, from the very corner of his eye, Guillermo’s face drop when he’d snapped at him. And he felt… _bad_ …about it. Was this what guilt felt like? He did not care for it.

“What are you doing, you prize fool?” Laszlo asked as he came through the curtain. “I could hear you straining from my coffin.”

Laszlo. Yes! Laszlo could help him; he might have been a prideful, self-centred man, but he surely knew a thing or two about feelings, if he had managed to keep Nadja happy for so long.

“I am in trouble,” Nandor said glumly, taking a seat on a lounge.

Laszlo followed, sitting across from him and stretching an arm over the backrest. “Not witches again?” he groaned.

“No. _Feelings_.” Nandor gave a pout, too ashamed to meet his friends’ eyes.

Laszlo’s lips slowly distorted in a grimace. “Look, chum, I know we had a moment or two a while back, but--”

“Not _you_ ,” Nandor snapped, then lowered his voice. “Somebody…else.”

“Oh? You’ve met someone?” The vampire’s eyebrows rose. “It wasn’t somebody we ate, was it?”

Nandor was expecting Laszlo to figure it out quickly, but apparently the vampire had all but forgotten about Guillermo’s recent ordeal. That gut-churning _guilt_ came creeping back as Nandor realised what little regard the other vampires had for his familiar.

“No,” he said in despair. “It’s…it’s not somebody you know.” He didn’t know how much he should be divulging right now.

“Please tell me it’s not a human, either way. You know how that always ends.”

“Laszlo, please!” Nandor fidgeted uncomfortably, his eyes still averted. “I was hoping you could tell me this: what is the normal way to court somebody in modern times?”

“Oh?” Laszlo perked up at that, one eyebrow raised. “You want to ask this somebody on a date?”

“A…date?” Nandor’s was visibly baffled. “Like the fruit?”

“No, no.” Laszlo shook his head. “Though dates _are_ considered aphrodisiacs, so the idea couldn’t go astray.”

_Okay. Dates._ Nandor added it to his mental checklist.

“Now, if a person is interested in another person, they will ask them on a date. It used to be that a man would ask a lady to accompany him to the theatre, or an opera. I believe popular places of courtship now are movie theatres and restaurants; though in our case, anywhere you might find juicy virgins. And perhaps after hunting, a moonlit stroll on the beach?”

Nandor grimaced at the romantic stroll part, but added restaurant and cinema to his mental list. He felt a little dizzy and, well, not very fearless. Laszlo was idly twisting his pipe in his mouth when something through the doorway caught his attention. “Ah, Gizmo!” he called. “Come here, lad. We need your help.”

Nandor’s stomach dropped as Laszlo gestured for the familiar. He shifted uncomfortably, gritting his teeth. “Oh, I don’t think Guillermo…it’s okay, Laszlo, I’m sure he has better things to…Laszlo, no…yeughh, shit.”

Guillermo stepped into the room. His face went stony as his eyes fell on his master. Nandor looked away, finding an interesting bloodstain on the opposite wall to admire.

“Yes?” Guillermo asked curtly.

“Nandor here has somehow found somebody he doesn’t hate. You might be able to give him some dating advice.”

“Oh?” His tone was undecipherable.

Nandor couldn’t look at him. “Guillermo has never _been_ on a date.”

“Surely he knows somebody who has,” Laszlo shrugged. “Or has read something on that lightbox of his.”

“I have dated, actually,” Guillermo mumbled **.**

Nandor and Laszlo shot him identical looks of surprise.

“You have been my familiar for eleven years, Guillermo. I think I would have known about any _dating_.” Nandor hazarded a glance at his familiar, who was now leaning on the armrest of Shaddow’s lounge chair, hands crossed on his lap. He was wearing his brown carpet sweater and beige pants, and some fleeting part of Nandor’s brain yearned to see him in his nice black dress shirt again. But he tamped down on the memories from that particular night; all they would do is make his guts squirm even worse.

Guillermo had that little wistful smile now that he usually reserved for when he was thinking about his past. But it was clouded with sadness. “You know, I only started working for you when I was nineteen or so. I did have a life before then. And I did date…occasionally.” He was looking at the floor, his face flushed. “I never made it past the first date, obviously, but-” he met his master’s eyes now and shrugged. “I learnt a thing or two.”

Nandor felt a familiar tug in his chest that he was only just starting to recognise: jealousy. Which was absurd, of course; Guillermo hadn’t dated anyone in many years. And he was still a virgin. And he had shared his first true kiss with Nandor.

And suddenly it was as if a part of Nandor’s brain - one that had been dawdling behind for years – had finally caught up with him. It hit him hard, threatening to crack open the hard shell he had spent hundreds of years building up around him. He _wanted_ Guillermo. Wanted him desperately. In more ways than just a familiar.

Some part of him had known it for a long time now, but that part had tried its hardest to remain lodged deep in his brain like some ancient buried treasure…and now that treasure chest had been opened…

…and the key had been that fucking nurse, _Brian_.

“Damn you, Brian,” Nandor muttered under his breath, before realising he’d spoken aloud. He looked up at his familiar, praying he hadn’t heard him. Guillermo and Laszlo were still on the subject of dating, but Nandor had missed all of what they’d said so far.

“Flowers, too,” Guillermo said shyly. That sadness was back in his eyes, but he was looking at Laszlo, as if too embarrassed to face his master. “Ladies usually like flowers, apparently.”

_He doesn’t know I am talking about him_ , he thought curiously. _Is he jealous, too?_ A terrible thought ran through his mind just then. What if Guillermo sought out That Fucking Guy Brian (or was it Bryson?) and asked him on a date, simply out of hurt?

No! He could not let that happen.

“Do men like flowers?” he blurted, before he had the chance to stop himself. That recently-unlocked part of his brain was desperate for Guillermo to take his hint. He forced himself to meet his familiar’s eyes, to try to convey all of these confusing feelings. He didn’t dare speak them aloud. Not with Laszlo suddenly perking up like he was.

“A chap, you say? I’m sure Gizmo here must have some experience with _that_ …”

Neither Nandor or Guillermo were listening to the other vampire now. Nandor felt like the walls had closed in on them, the shadows creeping into his vision until all he saw was the human in front of him. Guillermo could pull some of the best poker faces Nandor had ever seen. And right now, his face betrayed nothing.

“Nandor!” Laszlo shouted, snapping his fingers and pulling the other vampire from his thoughts. “You look like you’re in pain. Are you thinking too hard again?”

Nandor wanted to hiss at his friend, but his heart wasn’t in it. Guillermo got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m really not the best person to ask,” he said with a modest shrug. “But flowers are always a good start.” He seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then headed slowly to the door. “I—uh, have to finish the stairs.” One more glance at Nandor, and then he was out the door, pulling the curtain partly shut behind him.

Laszlo stood and sauntered over to where his fellow housemate sat. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Alright, chap, on your feet,” he ordered. Nandor glared at him, puzzled, but reluctantly obeyed.

Laszlo went to the doorway and spun back around. “Now, imagine I am the lad you want to court.” He strutted back to Nandor, a haughty smile on his lips. He gave the other vampire a little bow, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, hello Nandor. Is there something you wish to discuss with me?” His voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch.

Nandor’s mind went blank. He tried to smile, but it came out a grimace.

“Let me stop you there,” Laszlo said, putting up a hand. “You look like you’ve just walked out of a rectal examination. One that you didn’t enjoy.”

Nandor tried to force a bigger smile. It was hard to be genuine when your pretend date was a pompous bastard who you may or may not have had awkward relations with in the past.

“Oh, hello there, Nandor,” Laszlo repeated, placing a hand flamboyantly on the vampire’s sleeve. “What a surprise to see you here. Is there something you wish to tell me?”

“Oh, hello, guy…” Nandor trailed off and gave a little wave, trying to steady his smile. He thought Laszlo would stop him there, but apparently he was content to see how much of a train wreck this little performance would turn out to be. Something slipped into Nandor’s mind then, and he lifted a fist and presented it to Laszlo. “I got you some flowers.”

“Ah! Roses, my favourite.” Laszlo took the non-existent bouquet and pretended to breathe in the scent. “Really though, I fucking hate roses.”

Nandor’s smile faltered. Why hadn’t he asked Guillermo what _his_ favourite flowers were? _What if he hates roses_?

Laszlo straightened his coat and continued. “So, Nandor, why have you gifted me this beautiful bouquet?”

Nandor’s smile dropped completely. He was at a loss. Panic played across his features. “Because I…err…I…” he clenched his teeth and struggled to think. Why was this so _hard_? “I would like…to ask you…” he tried to read Laszlo’s face for some kind of hint. The vampire watched him expectantly. “…Would you like…to do a date?”

“Go on a date,” Laszlo corrected. “And smile, chap! You look about as eager as if you were asking a sabre-tooth cat on a date. Now, ask me again.”

“ _Laszlo_ ,” Nandor complained.

“Come now, I haven’t got all night.”

Nandor huffed and grabbed the invisible flowers from Laszlo’s clenched fist. They went through the flowers rigmarole again, and Nandor managed to ask Laszlo on a date without too much faltering.

“Why, I’d love to,” Laszlo said with élan. “Where shall we go?”

Nandor bit his lip, racking his brain. “To the…the movie cinema?”

“Splendid idea!” Laszlo exclaimed. “It’s a date.”

Nandor frowned at him. “Yes, I know, Laszlo.”

“No, ‘it’s a date’ is – ”

“I know it’s a date, I just asked you on a date!” Nandor yelled.

“It’s an expression, you fool!”

There was strangled laughter in response, but it didn’t come from either vampire. Nandor and Laszlo snapped their heads up to look at the doorway. Guillermo cleared his throat and walked in, trying to hide a smile. “I-uh—just came for the duster…” he gestured bashfully at the mantlepiece.

Nandor bristled. “How much of that did you see?” he hissed.

Laszlo was still clutching his invisible roses, mouth partly open, and Nandor smacked his hand away.

“Not much, promise,” Guillermo said, snatching up the duster. His tone of voice and the way he ducked his head to hide his smile told Nandor that he had seen _more_ than not much. He hissed again and spun away from Laszlo, deeply embarrassed. When he turned back, arms akimbo, Guillermo was gone. He peeked through the gap in the curtain and saw no sign of him.

“I don’t want to discourage you, Nandor,” Laszlo said with a sigh. “But you’re a lost cause. Like the famous saying goes: once a ruthless, bloodthirsty warrior; always a ruthless, bloodthirsty warrior. Through what fucking medium did you end up with _thirty-seven wives_?”

A grin spread across Nandor’s face. “The first three I stole from a town I had pillaged. Once word got out about the size of my dick, the rest came running.”

Laszlo shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Don’t tell your date about the size of your dick. I know you’re thinking about it, but _don’t_.”

Nandor’s grin dropped to a pout. “I am not good at this, Laszlo,” he complained.

Laszlo shrugged. “I would tell you to just be yourself but…well…don’t be yourself. Come, man.” He slung an arm lazily around Nandor’s shoulders. “Let’s both puzzle this out. Together.”


	6. Guillermo's Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor’s checklist for a good date:
> 
> 1\. Dates (the fruit type)  
> 2\. Flowers (but maybe not roses?)  
> 3\. A nice restaurant  
> 4\. The “movie cinemas”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unholy God, please help Nandor. He’s going to need it. Actually, scratch that, just help Guillermo survive this.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Kweerwolf, for giving me the idea for Colin’s night-time outing.
> 
> I have two more chapters written after this that I hope to post shortly. After that, I suspect there will only be a couple more chapters left to do. Thank you so much to everyone who has been liking and commenting, I hope you've all been enjoying it and it isn't *too* slow!

Guillermo felt relaxed and strangely content. He lay stretched out on his stomach, blasting music in his headphones and dreamily sketching a portrait of a certain tall, dark and handsome vampire. His mattress felt delectably soft after the firm, plasticky bed at the hospital, and Guillermo had his pillow stuffed under his chest for extra comfort. He felt drowsy, but he couldn’t sleep just yet. He had to put Nandor to bed later, for one, and even after that he wasn’t sure his brain would shut off long enough to sink into slumber. He thought back to the curious roleplaying he’d witnessed between Laszlo and Nandor. The thought that Nandor had actually met somebody he _liked_ in the space of two days seemed somewhat unlikely. More likely was that there was some kind of a misunderstanding.

He was so lost in thought and in the light strokes of his pencil, that he only caught sight of the shadow on his wall at the last moment. Before his brain even had a chance to register that it was human-shaped, a firm hand fell on his shoulder.

Guillermo sprang into action, driven by pure instinct. In the blink of an eye he rolled over and grabbed the stake sitting by his bed, while at the same time slamming his intruder with the back of his other arm, knocking them onto the bed.

“Gah!” A voice cried. “Fucking guy!”

Within a matter of seconds, he’d taken the upper hand and pinned his assailant to his bed, one hand digging into the vampire’s shoulder, the other holding the stake above his head. He was breathing heavily, teeth clenched.

“The fuck are you doing?” Nandor yelled. He lay flattened against the mattress, dishevelled and wide-eyed, his fangs bared.

“Oh my god,” Guillermo whispered.

“Guillermo! That word! Are you trying to kill me?” Nandor began to shuffle out from under his familiar. “Get off me!”

“S-sorry, Master! I thought you were an intruder.” Guillermo floundered to his feet, only now realising he still gripped the wooden stake. He recoiled and flung it to the floor as if it had burned his fingers. Nandor hissed at it as he got to his feet and straightened his cape.

“I tried knocking,” the vampire said sullenly. “But you didn’t hear, because you were wearing those ear phones! What if an intruder had come to attack _me_ , Guillermo?” He was yelling now. “What if I had been crying out, ‘Guillermo! Guillermo! Come rescue me!’ This is exactly what happened when the mosquitoes…”

Guillermo tuned out, spotting something strewn over the floor. “Master?” he interrupted. “Why are there weeds all over my floor?”

Nandor stopped ranting and gawked at his familiar for a moment, before following his gaze. He snarled and bent over, sulkily picking up dandelions and pine needles until they formed a pathetic bunch in his big fist. “They’re _not_ weeds,” he bit. An instant later his temperament seemed to cool, until he looked chagrined. That was when Guillermo realised what this was.

“Oh…of course not…” he managed to choke through the sudden lump in his throat.

“There were no florists open this time of night. I had to pick flowers from the garden.” Nandor huffed petulantly and shoved the makeshift bouquet against his familiar’s chest. Guillermo took them with a benevolent smile.

His master was struggling to find his voice. “I was going to ask…I mean, before you _rudely-_ “ He cut his words short, trying to think. Guillermo waited patiently but expectantly for whatever his master was going to blurt out next. “Guillermo,” the vampire said finally, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. He couldn’t meet his familiar’s eyes. “As a reward for you saving me recently…I would like to…extend to you an invitation…to accompany me…”

Guillermo would have rolled his eyes if his nerves hadn’t frozen him to the spot. Was it just him, or was the room suddenly very hot?

Nandor had gotten hung up on the ‘me’, and now he looked to Guillermo for help.

Guillermo decided to put an end to his suffering. “Sure. Where do you want to go?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He prayed his trembling hands weren’t too noticeable, though there wasn’t much he could do about his hammering heart; Nandor could surely hear it. That said, the vampire seemed to be caught up in some internal struggle. Guillermo sighed. He’d have to help out with this.

“Why don’t you take me to dinner?” he offered. “Maybe a movie after?” It was a simple enough suggestion; one that Nandor surely could not screw up. Guillermo bit his lip. Nandor would probably screw it up. But he didn’t mind; he was just thrilled by the fact that Nandor had practically asked him on a _date_!

He just hoped his master wouldn’t back down at the last minute.

“That sounds fine,” Nandor said quietly.

“Good.” Guillermo hazarded a cautious smile. “Tomorrow night?”

“…Okay.”

“Did you want me to pick a movie? And we can organise a time around that?”

Nandor was looking everywhere except him. He stood stiffly, fists clenched by his sides and a grimace on his face in what was his usual display of discomfort. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “That…works.” He cleared his throat and made his way to the partly-open door. When he spoke again, his voice was an anxious mumble. “You go to sleep, Guillermo; you look tired. I can put myself to bed tonight.” He was out the door before his familiar could protest, shutting it a little too loudly behind him.

Guillermo was alone, and the room suddenly felt a few degrees colder; which was peculiar, since Nandor didn’t exactly radiate body heat. He clutched the pathetic bouquet and sat down on his bed in what felt like a trance. He thought about the possibilities ahead; about snuggling in Nandor’s arms, the warmth of his master’s fur coat and thick clothes enveloping him. He thought of the kisses they’d shared, and wondered if there’d be more in the future. Of the two dates he had ever gone on, the most affection he had been shown was a peck on the cheek, and a little hand-holding.

Kissing Nandor had been…something else entirely. Each time their lips met, he had felt a dizzying, burning desire; one that began in his heart and surged down his body to roil below his stomach. But it wasn’t just desire. Cupping Nandor’s fuzzy jaw and leaning against him, _into_ him, their bodies pressed together as far as their clothes would allow – Guillermo had felt _whole_.

And finally, after all these years of uncertainty, of stormy clouds on the horizon, Nandor was starting to recognise the chemistry they had shared with each other for as long as Guillermo could remember. It would just take a little more coaxing, and a little more patience, to bring out that side of Nandor that was so afraid of disclosing his feelings.

Guillermo let out a shaky sigh. His heart swelled in his chest, but his guts were churning. Would they ever get to the stage where they were both comfortable enough with each other to share their feelings openly? Or would things always be this awkward between them? Was Nandor even capable of opening up, or was his masculinity too ingrained in his old-world traditions? The idea made him uneasy.

He checked the clock on his bedside table. It was almost ten. He tried to remain hopeful that, by this time tomorrow night, some of his questions might be answered.

*********************

The next evening, Nandor hurried through the house, hollering. “Laszlo! Laszloooo!”

Laszlo remained unperturbed, sucking idly at his pipe while reading a recent newspaper. A moment later the curtain was pulled back and Nandor flurried into the room. Laszlo didn’t bother to look up.

“Laszlo, I can’t do it!” Nandor’s words were drawn out in dismay. “I cannot go on this _date_. There is something wrong with my body. Look!” He lifted a hand to show Laszlo how it shook.

“Nandor, my man, calm down,” Laszlo said between his pipe. “You’ve just got a case of the jitters.”

“The jitters?” Nandor’s face was the image of despair. “Is that some kind of virus? Do I have the plague?”

Laszlo gave an exasperated sigh and closed his paper. “You’re nervous, chap. That’s all.” He twisted in his seat and raised his pipe to a silhouette behind the lounge. “Nandor the Fearless is feeling fearful. You hear that, Gizmo?”

“Loud and clear,” Guillermo mumbled. He was ironing his good dress shirt, the one that Nandor seemed to like. He thought the vampire was going to shriek upon noticing him there. Or flee the room, at the very least.

“Oh,” he said instead. “Hello, Guillermo.” He tried to keep his voice even, but his face betrayed the panic he felt. His expression was almost comical, but Guillermo didn’t feel like laughing. He was nervous as hell himself.

“Hello, Master,” he replied softly, before going back to his ironing.

“Looks like Nadja and I are going to have the place to ourselves tonight,” Laszlo said with a suggestive wink. “You’ve got your date to attend, and Gizmo here is off to one of his games sessions with – what’s his name…”

“Jeremy,” Guillermo finished. He looked up at his master, and was surprised to see his expression change from one of panic to one of offence **.** His lips twisted in a snarl.

“Jeremy?” he shouted, balling his fists. “ _Jeremy?_ You’re going off to play games with _him_? Did you forget about our date, Guillermo?”

_Oh my god_ , Guillermo groaned internally. He tried to keep his voice level **.** “No, _Nandor_. It was a cover. Like your date with the strange man that none of us know?”

Nandor’s face dropped as realisation sunk in. He unclenched his fists and let his arms hang limp by his sides. “Ah…shit.”

“Hold the phone!” Laszlo exclaimed, his pipe falling from his lips, forgotten. He gaped at them both, eyes shifting from one to the other in disbelief. Then he pointed a finger at Guillermo and addressed Nandor. “Did he just call you by your name?”

Nandor and Guillermo eyed each other cautiously. The room went awkwardly silent. An acrid stench suddenly filled the air. “Shit!” Guillermo hissed, tearing the iron away from his shirt. He’d been so caught up in their conversation that he hadn’t noticed he’d been burning a hole straight through it. It was now partly melted into the ironing board cover. “Shit!” he repeated, louder this time.

“Tough break, chap.” Laszlo sounded bored.

“That was my only good shirt,” Guillermo said dejectedly.

Laszlo placed his pipe in his mouth again, considering. “Go fetch Nadja. She might be able to help you find something to wear. Not that I’d worry about being dressed down…” he gestured to Nandor, who was wearing his typical clothing beneath a thick fur cape. “This fool’s going on a date dressed as a savage.”

“Hey!” Nandor yelled. Laszlo shrugged, as if to say it was only true.

Guillermo peeled the shirt from the board’s fabric and held it up. He could see the vampires grimacing through the gaping hole beneath the collar and he groaned, flinging the shirt back onto the board and hurrying out of the room. The nerves in his stomach were already playing havoc on his emotions and now his shirt was ruined and most of his other clothes had bloodstains. _Don’t cry, idiot,_ he chided himself. _I’m not going to cry._

*********************

“Gill-ermo?” came a muffled voice from behind the door, followed by a soft knock. “Are you in there, little one?”

Guillermo had been sitting hunched on his bed, scrolling dejectedly through his near-empty Facebook feed, trying to swallow down the tears that had been threatening. Shaddow had been laying at his feet, chin between his paws, trying to decipher the cause of his master’s unhappiness. But now both of them looked up in surprise. Had Nadja just called him by his name?

“Come in,” he choked, though the doorknob was already turning. Nadja walked into the room, her eyebrows slanting up in a look of sympathy, which for once actually seemed genuine.

“Gill-ermo, poor thing,” she cooed when she saw his stooped figure and red eyes. She gingerly sat beside him and gave him a pat on the knee, before visibly recoiling at the touch. Guillermo’s stomach flipped. This was very unlike Nadja. “What are you doing there, with your talk machine?” she asked

“Oh, nothing,” Guillermo said dismissively. He turned his phone’s screen off and tossed it half-heartedly to the end of the bed, giving her his full attention.

“I brought you some of Laszlo’s old clothes to wear, since you ruined your pretty shirt. They should fit you well enough.” She placed a small pile of fabric in his lap. Guillermo gave her a shy smile in thanks and picked up the shirt that sat on top of the pile. It was a thin white blouse with balloon sleeves. The neckline bunched in the middle into a fancy ruffle.

Guillermo’s smile dropped. “I-I can’t wear this,” he stuttered. “I mean, thank you, Nadja. But isn’t it a little…old-fashioned?” His mind went immediately to Lestat in Interview with the Vampire. His heart dropped. Sure, these types of clothes might look fashionable on a handsome, pale vampire. But _him_?

“Nonsense!” Nadja said. “You will blend right in at the theatre.”

“It’s, uh, just a normal, modern-day cinema.”

Apparently the vampire hadn’t heard him. “In fact, that vest is one of Laszlo’s finest. Eighteenth century satin. If he finds out you’ve borrowed it, he will probably kill you.”

“Oh...” He wouldn’t be seen dead in these clothes, anyway. “Maybe a T-shirt and jeans would be--”

“Come, Gill-ermo. I will help you dress.” Nadja jumped to her feet, her voice and her brilliant, fanged smile leaving no room for argument.

Guillermo stifled a groan and tried to numb his racing heart as the vampire fussed about, laying out the clothes and talking to herself. When she put her fingers under the hem of his sweater and tried to pull it over his head, he almost shrieked. “It’s okay, Nadja. I can do that.” Still, she wouldn’t look away as he stripped to his underwear. Sweat prickled at his forehead as he subtly tried to cover his body.

“Are you constipated, Gill-ermo?” Nadja inquired, noticing his weird stance as she handed him a pair of black dress pants. “The last thing you want is to spend your entire date in the toilet.”

In truth, Guillermo felt the opposite, like he might bring up his mostly-digested lunch any second now. The ruffled shirt came after the pants. Nadja praised his appearance as she swept it around his shoulders and gratuitously helped him with the buttons. Then came the vest, which was pitch-black but embossed with flourishing golden vines. It was fastened by four gold buttons, a shade lighter than the decorative emboss. Nadja didn’t help Guillermo with his socks or dress shoes; that was far below her. Not that that bothered him in the least; she was being a little too chummy as it was.

She even combed back his hair, humming the entire time while ignoring Guillermo’s gentle protests. She stepped back when she was done and clapped her hands together. “Gill-ermo! You look so elegant! Come-” she grabbed his shoulders and ushered him towards the mirror above the old vanity, “—see for yourself.”

Guillermo blanched. In the faded looking glass, a dandy eighteenth-century version of himself looked back at him with wide, panic-stricken eyes. His stomach dropped sickeningly.

“Nadja,” he said in his most benignant voice, “I’m not entirely sure this…look…suits me.”

“Don’t be silly!” Nadja admonished. “You look handsome! Like a proper man!”

_Is she bullshitting me?_ Guillermo thought incredulously. He was going to be the laughing stock of anyone who laid eyes on him tonight. Possibly even Nandor. Even his neatly-combed hair was making him increasingly self-conscious. He looked like a fool. He wanted to say as much, but he also didn’t want to hurt Nadja’s feelings. Or risk being eaten.

The vampire sat back on the bed, gazing at her work with admiration. But there was inexplicable pity in her eyes. She patted the bed beside her, summoning him. When he obliged, she turned to him.

“Gill-ermo, why? Why _Nandor_ of all people?” she asked **,** not unkindly.

Guillermo frowned. “H-how did you know we were going on a date?”

“Laszlo told me, silly,” she said. Guillermo’s eyebrows raised at that. So, the vampire _hadn’t_ missed Nandor’s little outburst about his cover.

Nadja continued. “Sure, he is handsome and strong and has an adorable smile. Laszlo tells me he is second to none in bed, too. But he is like a big dumb meaty cake. You think it will be delicious, but then you bite into it and there’s nothing there except…air.” She stuck her tongue out. 

Guillermo blushed furiously and quickly averted his gaze, giving a slight one-sided shrug. “It’s true, he’s not exactly the romantic type-”

“Sweetling that is the biggest understatement I have ever heard, and I have heard a _lot_ of understatements. He does not treat you well, because he is an idiot. But, I think, he _does_ care about you…in his own…uncaring way.” Before Guillermo had a chance to ponder that or reply, Nadja was on her feet, grinning. “Come, Gizmo! Let’s not dwell on idiots. Let us instead show them what a handsome boy you are!”

Shaddow perked his head up at that and cocked it to the side, curious.

*********************

They took the bus into the city, because Colin had the Flex; apparently Office Max was having a sale, and Colin wanted to ask about the optics on all the printers.

“When it comes to minimum-wage workers and technology, even one clerk can be a _buffet_ ,” he had explained with his crooked grin. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Guillermo thought that maybe they would fly, but Nandor hadn’t suggested it. He regretted taking the window seat; every time he tried to look out at the dimly-lit streets, he would catch his reflection and shudder. Laszlo had assured him that he looked every bit the gentleman (though not _quite_ as handsome as he). Nandor was still wearing the same grimace he’d been wearing all night, and it didn’t change when he saw his date all spruced up, so he was of no help. Judging by the furtive gazes he was getting from the few passengers on board, he must look perfectly ludicrous. At least most of their stares were shared between the couple.

Nandor had stayed quiet since they’d left the house, and Guillermo couldn’t think of anything substantial to say, no matter how much he racked his brains. So it was a relief when the vampire finally seemed to snap from his blank trance and reach into his cape. “I just remembered, I got you something,” he said, a grin spreading over his features. Guillermo’s heart skipped a beat and for a moment he allowed himself to adore that smile, before turning his gaze to where Nandor’s hand was concealed. He was feeling around for something.

“Aha! Here it is,” he exclaimed, and revealed a small plastic box that was partly squashed. It contained little, brown shrivelled things that for a heart-stopping moment Guillermo thought were dead cockroaches. Nandor must have seen the look of horror on his face because he quickly added, “They are dates!”

“ _Oh_!” Guillermo said, forcing a puzzled smile. He took the box from Nandor’s hands and held it in his lap. “Thank you. I, uh…I haven’t had dates in a long time.” He realised the double-entendre at the last moment and could have smacked himself. He quickly changed the subject. “Have you thought of where we’ll – I mean I’ll – be eating?”

“Yes,” Nandor said, his grin returning as he looked down at his familiar. “It isn’t far from the movie cinemas, and I think you will like it.”

Guillermo still couldn’t meet Nandor’s eyes fully; any sliver of courage he’d felt over the past few days was now wiped clean from his system. The bus soon came to their stop, and they stepped out into the frigid spring air. This side of the street was dark; illuminated only by a single fluorescent light on the ceiling of the bus stop that flickered and cast everything in a sickly pale green. Across the road, however, a pair of glowing golden arches welcomed them.

Nandor spotted them first when the bus rolled away. “Ah!” he said, taking an eager step forward, his teeth and eyes flashing in the low light. “We are here.”

Guillermo followed confusedly. It wasn’t until they had crossed the road and taken the little path up to the restaurant doors that it finally dawned on him. “You’re taking me to McDonalds for dinner?” He tried keeping up with Nandor’s wide paces, but the vampire was walking quickly.

“This is not good?” he asked, turning to look at his familiar. There was a skittish quality to his eyes that was unlike him. “It has the fancy golden arches.”

Guillermo decided to let it go, ignoring the disappointment that tugged at his chest. It was the thought that counted, right? “Sure,” he said with a small smile. “This is great.”

The gazes they received from the other diners were enough to make Guillermo wish he were somewhere else…like six feet in the ground. They found a booth in a dark, secluded corner of the restaurant, and Guillermo took a seat, sighing. Nandor didn’t join him. He lingered near the neighbouring table, leaning over it to try to get a view of the menu behind the counter.

“The movie starts at eight-thirty,” Guillermo spoke up eventually. “I’ll go order now, so-”

“No, Guillermo!” Nandor interrupted, turning to him and putting up a finger. “I will pay for your meal. One moment.” Before Guillermo could protest, or even tell him what he wanted, Nandor was halfway to the counter. He sighed and sunk down a little in his chair. Thankfully the tables around them were empty, though there was a ruckus coming from the other end of the restaurant: screaming toddlers, yelling parents, laughing and chattering teenagers. It was a very romantic environment.

Guillermo leaned back against the bench’s cushioned headrest and closed his eyes. He was overcome by a sudden wave of exhaustion. The adrenaline and anticipation were starting to wear off the more he listened to Nandor argue loudly and unintelligibly with the server. Eventually, he heard a tray being pushed towards him. He opened his eyes to see a little colourful box before him, complete with yellow M-shaped handles. Beside it on the tray was a juice box **.** Apple-flavoured. His eyes flicked up to Nandor but he didn’t move.

Nandor was grinning again, but there was still an unmistakable nervousness in his eyes. “I thought you might like one of these Happy Meals, because you look a little sad.”

Guillermo was taken aback. Since when had Nandor cared about his feelings? Was it possible that he was actually trying to make this date good? He tried to smile, though he was sure he _did_ look sad. “That’s…that’s really sweet of you, Mas—Nandor. Thank you.” He picked at his fries, but he didn’t think he could stomach much. Not only was he filled with conflicting emotions that consumed him and made his guts churn, but Nandor was staring expectantly at him, and he felt uncomfortable under his master’s – no, his _date’s_ – gaze.

“Look!” Nandor said after a heavy silence. He reached into the box and took out a little plastic bag. “It comes with a toy.” He began unwrapping it, and Guillermo noticed his hands were shaking. That took him by surprise. Nandor pulled out a little statuette of a dog. “Guillermo! A puppy! It looks like Shaddow.”

It didn’t. It was Scooby Doo. But Guillermo didn’t bother enlightening him. He just nibbled at his fries and kept a close eye on the time. Nandor apparently noticed how often he pressed the button on his phone to check.

“You decided on a movie?”.

“Yeah,” Guillermo said. “Just a romcom. I doubt it will be any good, but it was slim pickings.”

“Rom…com?”

“Romantic comedy,” he quickly explained. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “Ryan Gosling is in it, at least.”

Nandor regarded his familiar under heavy brows. “Gosling? You like this…baby goose man?”

“He’s okay. Has a cute smile.” Guillermo shrugged casually and took another bite of his chip, secretly relishing Nandor’s sudden jealousy. He could live on torturing this vampire. It was fair payback for how he’d been treated over the years, right?

“I don’t like romcoms,” Nandor decided.

Guillermo rolled his eyes. “Have you ever seen one? In fact, have you ever been to a cinema?”

“Of course!” Nandor exclaimed. “I saw Night of the Living Dead at a drive-in theatre. Benji came with me.” He poked a finger at Guillermo’s chest and then sat back and crossed his arms, satisfied that he had given his date a taste of his own medicine. Guillermo wasn’t impressed, though. His hopes for a romantic date – or even something _resembling_ a date – were dashing.

They sat in silence. Guillermo tried to ignore the stares of other patrons, but he’d been noticing them this whole time and it wasn’t helping his failing mood. He was equally thankful and apprehensive when the time came to leave. He stood up and left his mostly-untouched food.

“You’re not going to take tiny Shaddow?” Nandor asked.

Guillermo didn’t bother turning around. “Nope,” he said. “I’m a little old for toys.” He walked briskly to the door, cheeks burning as a group of teenagers choked back laughter upon seeing his outfit.


	7. Cadillacs and Catastrophes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date continues...and just gets better and better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Use of the ‘F’ slur (I apologise in advance).
> 
> I think this exact same thing happened in Twilight. Idk though, it’s been 10 years since I’ve read Twilight so maybe it was a little different. Either way this chapter is corny af. Read at your own risk.

The cinema was a short walk away. It was in a familiar part of the city, which was probably how Nandor had recognised the McDonalds. Guillermo momentarily contemplated a parallel universe in which the vampire had instead taken him to the nice Italian restaurant across the street.

_He’s trying_ , he told himself as they walked side-by-side. _At least I think he is._

“You still seem unhappy,” Nandor said after a short silence. “Did you not like your Happy Meal?”

“It was fine,” Guillermo replied, more curtly than he’d intended.

Nandor hesitated for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was strained. “You look…good?” Compliments had never been his strong suit, but it still made Guillermo smile in spite of himself.

“Thank you, Nandor.” A wind picked up just then and Guillermo hugged himself, rubbing his upper arms. Elegant or not, his thin white blouse didn’t keep out the cold, even with the vest on top. His heart did a foolish little jump as he pictured Nandor taking off his cape and handing it to him. Or putting his arm around him. They were walking close together…now would be the perfect time for the vampire to make a move.

They reached the cinema far too quickly. They passed through the carpark and something caught Nandor’s eye. He let out an intrigued hum, and Guillermo followed his gaze. Parked beside a dented Nissan Crew was a gleaming 1960 Cadillac Deville coupe, painted a fiery red with sparkling gold trim.

“Look at this carriage,” Nandor purred, running a gentle hand over the trunk.

“Don’t touch it,” Guillermo uttered. It looked incredibly expensive. But then a thought crossed his mind. “When did you become so interested in classic cars?”

“Classic cars?” Nandor looked at him confusedly before turning back to admire the vehicle. “Look at its colours! It must go very fast.” He grinned and Guillermo stifled a groan. He left the vampire to his drivelling and caresses of the paintjob, and headed for the entrance.

He was grateful for the strong current of warmth that greeted him as he entered, but he was still roiling with disappointment…and something bordering on aggravation. Thankfully the foyer was fairly empty. The only full table was a group of teenagers who were taking turns at the arcade machines. They gawked as Nandor entered, and then watched with increasing interest as the couple walked to the counter.

Guillermo searched for his wallet but Nandor stopped him with a hand. “I will pay,” he announced, and turned to the young man behind the counter. “I would like to purchase two tickets for your show.” He produced a wad of cash from a hidden pocket within his cape.

The boy’s eyes slid from Nandor to Guillermo, then back again. “Which movie?” he asked tiredly.

Nandor turned to his familiar and whispered, “Which show?”

“You’re the One,” Guillermo whispered back.

Nandor frowned. “Why am _I_ the one?”

The boy behind the counter sighed, so Guillermo snatched the bills from Nandor and said, “Two tickets for You’re the One. And a medium popcorn.” He tried his best fake smile as he paid and waited for the tickets and popcorn. Then he pushed past Nandor and over to the line – which contained a total of two people. _Thank God it’s a quiet night_ , he thought, hearing snickers from the group of teenagers behind them.

They chose a middle row and middle seats for a good view of the screen. The couple that had been in front of them in line were seated a few rows down. The lights were still on, and spirited advertisements were blasting from the speakers, making Guillermo’s head pound.

“The screen is much bigger than I remember,” Nandor said eagerly, rubbing his hands together. Apparently he had forgotten all about his hate for romcoms and Ryan Gosling. “Benji and I were watching from a hill outside of the grounds, though, because we didn’t have any money. So the screen looked very small.”

 _You weren’t driving a Cadillac, were you?_ Guillermo almost bit out, but stopped himself just in time. His frustration subsided a little when he realised that he knew very little about his master’s past. Nandor had recounted his great, victorious battles endless times, but he didn’t talk much about his seven-hundred or so years as an undead creature of the night. Guillermo was always getting upset at the vampire for hardly knowing anything about him, yet he saw now that he hardly knew anything about Nandor. Not that he hadn’t tried to glean information from his master throughout the years. Nandor just wasn’t the type to open up or dwell on his history, unless it involved gloating about victories. Was it hard to live so long? Did it get tiring, having to keep up with the constantly changing years?

The lights suddenly began to dim, and the last of the advertisements played through. Guillermo took no notice of the giant cartoon popcorn bucket on the screen as he gripped his own untouched popcorn, suddenly all-too aware of Nandor’s proximity; of the unexpected intimacy of this dark hall. Nandor was staring at the screen, his lips stretched in an anticipatory grin. His eyes were shining. He was gripping both armrests. It would be so easy for Guillermo to sneak a hand over and place it on his.

He couldn’t keep focused on the movie. He tried to eat his popcorn, hoping it would remind him to keep his eyes on the screen. But his thoughts kept wandering. Nandor’s hands hardly moved. What if he was waiting for Guillermo to make a move?

Guillermo bit his lip, deliberating.

Before he could come to a decision, though, Nandor reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

“You can’t eat that,” he hissed in his master’s ear.

“I’m not going to eat it,” Nandor said. He began to flick pieces of popcorn down the rows of seats, aiming for the couple that were currently using the darkness as a cover for making out. Guillermo frowned; they didn’t even have the decency to move to the back rows?

One piece of popcorn hit home, bouncing off the girl’s blonde head of hair. The couple parted and she scratched her scalp where it had hit.

“Slam dunk **!”** Nandor exclaimed. “Just like Jordan!” The couple turned their heads at the outburst, then went back to watching the movie.

“Stop _that_ ,” Guillermo hissed between clenched teeth. “Have you been drinking drug blood again?”

“This movie is boring, Guillermo. Where is the baby goose man?” Nandor reached for more popcorn but the bucket was flung away from his outstretched hand. He pouted and went back to watching. Guillermo placed the bucket on the empty seat beside him. Now his hands were free, and he didn’t know what to do with them. Nandor was clutching the armrests again. Guillermo’s heart quickened and his frustration abated, and his brain said _to hell with it._ It wasn’t like the night could get any worse. He lifted his hand and placed it on the back of Nandor’s in one swift motion, knowing that if he hesitated, he’d chicken out.

Nandor flung his hand back as if he’d been touched by a crucifix. He recoiled as his eyes met his familiar’s; his mouth hung open a little, clearly appalled. Guillermo’s throat constricted and his stomach dropped. Had he made a mistake? It wasn’t an unfamiliar touch; Guillermo was always holding his master’s hand when helping him in and out of his coffin. He helped him dress, even brushed his _hair_. There was a fair amount of touching involved in Guillermo’s job description.

 _That’s just it, though,_ he thought in dismay, _it was all just part of the job. This is different. What if I’ve completely misunderstood this whole thing? What if he misunderstood what a date is supposed to be? Is he even interested in me in that way?_ Not for the first time, Guillermo felt as though the universe were trying to mock him; this vampire-slayer pathetically in love with his vampire master. Slaving away at his heels for years and getting nothing but empty promises in return.

Tears came unbidden to his eyes, and Guillermo sprang to his feet. “Excuse me,” he said quickly, brushing past a confused and somewhat concerned Nandor. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Guillermo?” Nandor called after him, but he didn’t make any attempt to move. He seemed nonplussed.

Guillermo got out of that loud, dark hall as quickly as he could and tried in vain to swallow the tears, but it felt as though there was a clamp around his throat. It was suddenly too hot, and he welcomed the crisp night air as he hurried out of the building and onto the dim footpath. He followed the concrete walkway through the carpark. The red glint of the Cadillac caught his eye, but the moment his gaze fell on it, a cold chill crawled up the back of his neck. He suddenly longed for Shaddow to be by his side.

Four of the teenagers he’d seen in the foyer earlier were now standing around the car. One of them – a tall, slim boy with a varsity jacket slung over his shoulder – was necking a brunette college girl. One of the other boys was puffing away at a cigarette, while the other leaned against the Caddy, huddled over his phone, his head obscured by a grey hoodie but his face lit by the screen’s blue glare. As soon as one of them saw Guillermo, the others did too. Even the couple ceased their making-out. Guillermo realised he had stopped walking and was rooted to the spot, staring. For a moment, both parties looked as surprised as the other. But then a malicious grin spread across the cigarette-smoking boy. He looked like a fox, his face thin and baleful behind a thin veil of smoke.

“Hey, faggot!” he called. His voice was high and fox-like, too. “What’s the matter? Your boyfriend dump you?”

Guillermo willed his legs to move and continued walking, pointedly ignoring them.

“Hey!” the boy yelled again. This time he dropped his cigarette and crushed it with the sole of his boot. He looked older than the others; early twenties, maybe. “Don’t ignore me, fag. My buddy here wants to fuck you.” He gestured to the hoodie-wearing kid.

Hoodie took a moment to catch up with the situation, and screwed up his face at his friend. “Hey! Fuck you, I like girls!”

The college girl giggled from the other side of the car, but she gave Guillermo an almost sympathetic look.

Guillermo kept walking. He wouldn’t let them get to him. They were ten years his junior, at least. Just a bunch of stupid kids.

“Hey, where do you get your clothes?” The hooded teenager called now. “Your grandpa give ‘em to you after he fucked you?”

Cigarette snorted. Guillermo tried to hide his grimace and keep his eyes straight ahead. That was just downright nasty. He was almost past the Caddy. Soon enough he’d be at the bus stop and he’d ride home and go to bed and forget that this night had ever existed. A sudden pang of disappointment threatened more tears and he sniffed them away quickly. He had passed the Cadillac and could see the dim glow of the bus stop’s fluorescent light, just down the street. But a second later, something hit the back of his head with a loud _crack_ , making him stumble. A flash of white filled his vision like a bolt of lightning.

“Hey, cocksucker!” The guy with the jacket yelled at his back. “Don’t ignore us!”

Guillermo looked down at the rock that had hit the back of his head. Thankfully there was no blood. Inside, though, his blood was boiling. This night could _not_ get any worse. Where was Nandor when he needed him? Was he still in the dark hall, watching the big screen with wide shiny eyes, his date completely forgotten? Guillermo gritted his teeth, trying to fight back the rage he felt. He turned around and glared at the little group. _They’re only teenagers_ , he tried to remind himself again.

“Oh, looks like you got his attention now,” Cigarette quipped.

“Uh oh, he’s angry,” Hoodie put his hands up, grinning.

“Where’s your big boyfriend now?” Jacket taunted. His girlfriend reprimanded him quietly.

Guillermo’s vision tunnelled as he focused on the group around the Cadillac. He no longer heard their repetitive jibes **.** He was filled with a hate that he usually only reserved for the vampires he killed. But now he was in hunting mode; only it wasn’t vampires he was dealing with. Some small, lucid part of his brain told him over and over that humans were _different_ to vampires, but the irrational side won out in the end. The frustration and disappointment and anger that had been building all night had finally come to a head.

The group of teens parted a little when they saw him closing in. His target was the leader: cigarette man. He grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the Caddy before swinging an arm back and slamming his fist into the side of Cigarette’s face.

“Ah!” Cigarette exclaimed, stumbling a little. “Fucker got me!”

Guillermo grabbed him by the hair, kneed him in the chin and kicked him to the tarmac. It was over in a split-second, but to him it had felt like slow-motion. The downed man rolled over his squashed cigarette, moaning.

“Well? Fucking get him!” he screamed at the others.

Everything was a blur after that.

Guillermo was vaguely aware of being grabbed from behind and swung swiftly around, where he was met with a fist to the cheek that sent him staggering back. He felt no pain, riding on pure adrenaline. He lunged for one of his attackers and was met with a knee in the guts. He managed to barrel the boy over and deliver a heavy blow to his face that cracked his nose. Then a firm hand grabbed him by the hair and threw him back, and he hit his head hard on the tarmac. When the stars in his eyes cleared, he found himself leaning on his elbows with four faces staring down at him. Three of those faces were badly bruised and broken. The other – the girl – was looking on with a mixture of shock and fear.

“Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded to her boyfriend.

Guillermo swallowed hard, suddenly afraid. He was on the ground and outnumbered. The group was closing in on him. Blood trickled from a cut on his lip and a gash on his eyebrow; the latter seeping into his left eye and making it water. At least he wouldn’t feel whatever pain they were about to inflict upon him; he was still numb from head to toe.

A shadow passed over the group, and for a moment Guillermo didn’t think much of it. But then Jacket was snatched by two pale hands and yanked swiftly into the darkness. Seconds later, a hair-raising scream pierced the still air, shattering whatever force had frozen Guillermo to the ground. He jumped to his feet, and at the same time the teenagers bumbled away from the tall silhouette that had snatched their friend. Sickening squelching and slurping noises came drifting from the darkness, mingling with Jacket’s screams.

“Is this some fucking _joke_?” Cigarette yelled.

“What’s going on?” The girl shrieked.

Guillermo tried to keep his voice calm, but it came out breathless and rushed. “You all need to get out of here, now, or he’ll kill you.” He tried to convey the gravity of the situation through his eyes and his tone of voice. Behind him, Jacket’s screams had come to a strangling stop.

“This is some kind of joke,” Hoodie scowled. “You’re just trying to scare us.”

“This is not a fucking joke!” Guillermo hissed **.** “You need to get the hell out of here!”

Before the group had the chance to turn tail, though, Jacket’s body was flung into the circle of dim light at their feet. He hit the ground with an audible crunch. A pool of blood formed on the tarmac, gushing from a deep wound in his neck.

The group screamed in unison; the girl particularly hysterical. They turned and ran, stumbling over each other’s feet in the process, screaming about calling 911 or the cops or _someone_.

“Oh shit,” Guillermo breathed. He put his hands to his head and looked down at Jacket’s lifeless body. His jacket was gone, and his shirt torn in several places. Nandor stepped into the pool of light, blood trickling down his bottom lip to stain his silk cravat. He was grimacing.

“Not a virgin,” he said with disgust. “Tasted bitter. _Terrible_.”

“ _Why did you eat him_?” Guillermo shrieked. He’d been entirely wrong about tonight not being able to get worse.

Nandor shrugged one shoulder, suddenly uncomfortable. “They were hurting you.”

“They’re going to call the police!” Guillermo could still hear their distant cries.

“Should I kill them, too?”

“ _No_! No…” He tried to calm his breathing and lower his voice. He had been in these situations before. Well, not _this_ particular situation; but situations in which bodies had been left carelessly in the open for him to clean up. “We need to get rid of him. Now.”

Nandor approached the cadaver and nudged it with his toe. Then he bent over it and felt around in the boy’s pockets.

“You’re _robbing_ him now?” _Deep breaths, Guillermo._

“I don’t appreciate what he did to you,” Nandor said sternly. “Besides, I want to get back what I paid for that movie. You walked out after ten minutes!”

He had sat there for far longer than ten minutes while putting up with Nandor’s childishness and sweating over the decision to touch his hand. But he bit his tongue and simply stormed off. Nandor could deal with the body. He felt his cheek bruising and could taste blood. His bones were beginning to ache, and the back of his head was throbbing painfully. He walked with a slight limp, though he couldn’t remember hurting his leg. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

“Guillermo!” Nandor called after him. “Come back!”

Guillermo almost didn’t acknowledge him, but something in the vampire’s voice made him curious. He turned around to find Nandor standing over Jacket’s body, one hand clutching a thick wallet, the other raised to reveal a set of keys dangling from his fingers. Nandor’s fangs flashed. “Guess who owned the shiny carriage?” he said excitedly.

“Why is it so slow?” Nandor complained. “I thought the red cattles were the fastest?”

“Cadillacs,” Guillermo corrected over the whoosh of wind. “We’re in the middle of the city, and there’s traffic, so we have to stick to the speed limit.”

“Fuck the speed limit,” Nandor hissed. He was as antsy as a child on its first sideshow ride. Guillermo wanted nothing more than to go home. He was aching and covered in blood and grit. Laszlo’s blouse was torn in several places, and his vest had seen better days. Guillermo wasn’t sure he’d be able to scrub away the scuff marks on it. He wondered if Laszlo really would kill him, then decided that right now he didn’t care.

The problem was, there was the body of a bloodied young man in the trunk of the Caddy, and Guillermo couldn’t go home until it was disposed of. At Nandor’s command, Guillermo had pulled the car’s top down, so now they cruised through the busy streets with the cold wind in their hair and the neon lights of the city playing over their faces. Shaddow would have _loved_ this. Guillermo would have loved it, too, under completely different circumstances. Right now, he just felt cold and miserable. And a little bit guilty. He wanted to believe that Nandor really _had_ been trying tonight, despite all rational thought telling him that it had just been one big farce.

“Where are we going?” Nandor asked while they waited at a red light.

“Sharrotts Shoreline,” Guillermo replied tiredly. He had been racking his brain for somewhere they could discreetly dispose of the body. Sharrotts Shoreline was a secluded beach beyond a tangle of woodland. He had been there only a few times, but it was a good enough place to dump bodies as a last resort. They would be able to make a little pyre in a clearing, maybe burn the car on the beach where it wouldn’t start a wildfire. He silently ran through the nuts and bolts of his idea while he drove.

“Are you in pain?” Nandor asked at length.

“Not really,” Guillermo lied.

“Why did you fight them?”

_Because you weren’t there to protect me_. No, he wouldn’t say that. He could protect himself just fine. Mostly. “They were calling me…things, and I got upset. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay.” Nandor seemed perfectly content with not talking about it. “Can we go faster now?”

Guillermo’s blood simmered and he gripped the steering wheel. The traffic had loosened a little, but he still couldn’t bear down on the pedal. He was about to apologise for the snail’s pace, but then thought the better of it.

It was edging closer to ten o’clock by the time they reached Sharrotts Shoreline. Guillermo opened the driver’s door and got out, while Nandor jumped over his own door and stumbled a little. He straightened himself and went to the trunk. At least he had done all of the heavy lifting at the carpark, telling Guillermo that he didn’t need to assist because this was supposed to be a _date_. Now Nandor lifted Jacket’s body out of the trunk and draped the boy across his arms, and Guillermo felt a pang of anguish. That boy had parents. Maybe even siblings. A girlfriend. School and friends and a life to look forward to. Nandor had complained that his blood had tasted _bitter_ , and tossed his body to the ground like a discarded sandwich.

Guillermo leaned against the Cadillac and watched Nandor through the trees as he dumped the body in a clearing of dirt and lit it alight with a flick of his hand. The vampire stood back quickly and watched the flames for a moment, before spotting Guillermo between patches of witch hazel and dark spruce. He walked idly over and stood beside his familiar, clearing his throat. The ocean twinkled before them in the starlight, while behind them the woodland hid much of the pyre. It wasn’t a pretty beach; in fact, it was hardly a beach at all, just a thin line of sandy dirt pitted with driftwood and stones. The water that lapped against the shore was a muddy brown. Guillermo had parked in front of Caddy’s ancestor: an old, rusted shell of a non-descript car that had been presumably caught fire years ago.

The place was a bit of a dump. But they weren’t here for romance – they were here to dispose of a body that Nandor had drained while Ryan Gosling made out with Emma Stone on a giant screen only a few hundred feet away.

“Been so long since I’ve visited the seaside,” Nandor said, gently breaking the silence. “I forgot how beautiful it is.” The air was filled with the stench of dead fish combined with burning corpse. Nandor breathed it in deeply. “I used to be an excellent swimmer,” he continued wistfully. “When you are a warrior, it’s a good skill to have. There is always a lot of fire when you’re conquering countries.” He stole a glance at Guillermo, waiting for his response, but his familiar stayed quiet. He was staring out at the ocean, his lips set in a thin line, his eyes watery.

“You’re still upset,” Nandor uttered. He was grimacing and his whole body had gone rigid, as if bracing himself.

Guillermo took a deep, shaky breath. “This has been one of the worst nights of my life.” He swallowed hard.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic, there.”

Guillermo whirled on him then; his patience spent. He began checking off a list on his fingers. “You give me a bouquet of weeds. You take me to McDonalds for dinner. Buy me a _Happy Meal_. Force me to walk in the cold--“

“Hey! I didn’t ask you to wear those clothes.”

“--You throw popcorn at strangers. I try to hold your hand and you treat me like I’ve got some kind of disease-”

“You surprised me!”

“—You _kill_ some kid who was just out having a good time.”

“He hurt you,” Nandor said matter-of-factly. “How many times do I have to go over that?”

“You don’t kill somebody just because he punched your date!” Guillermo cried, enraged. “That boy had a family, a girlfriend, a _life_. And you just took that away from him!” He surprised himself when he poked his master in the chest with a firm finger.

Nandor just stared at him, perplexed.

Guillermo let out a noise that was somewhere between an exasperated growl and a moan, and made for the driver’s seat.

“Guillermo?” Nandor called, still two paces back – literally and figuratively.

“We need to get this out on the sand,” Guillermo mumbled. He started the car, and a moment later Nandor was beside him, leaning back in the passenger seat, looking terribly uncomfortable.

The Cadillac made for an impressive bonfire. Nandor had set it alight in several places, and once the flames came together, the entire thing ignited in a small explosion. Guillermo was grateful, not for the first time tonight, that he’d found somewhere so secluded.

They stood side-by-side on the grassy knoll that marked the edge of the shoreline and the beginning of the woodland. A hundred feet behind them, what remained of Jacket was now smouldering. A few hundred feet in front of them, his car was melting and splitting and contracting.

Guillermo’s heart sunk as he thought about the old rusty shell of the mystery car at the edge of the woods, and how this fiery red Cadillac was now just as worthless. A hunk of dead metal.

Two funerals made for the perfect ending to a perfect date.

Guillermo was trying to think of a way to ask Nandor how they’d get home when the vampire turned to him.

“Does your face hurt?” he asked, and then surprised them both by laying a hand on his familiar’s cheek, as naturally as if it were something he did all the time. Whatever pain Guillermo had been feeling a second ago was now smothered by the feeling of that cold hand against his burning skin. He closed his eyes and leaned into Nandor’s bearish palm, overcome by a sudden calmness that eradicated anything he had been planning to say. Nandor silently trailed his thumb down Guillermo’s cheek, stopping at his bottom lip to wipe away a fleck of dried blood. A moment later he pulled Guillermo into a gentle bear-hug, planting a kiss on the top of his familiar’s head.

Guillermo slid his arms around the vampire’s waist and nuzzled against his chest, careful not to crack his glasses in the process. Nandor may not have produced much body heat, but the gesture itself emanated a warmth that soothed Guillermo’s hurting body and aching heart.

“I’m sorry tonight has not been good for you,” Nandor mumbled into his hair.

The night’s events had faded into the back of his mind the minute Nandor had embraced him, but Guillermo smiled. “It’s okay, Master,” he said, his voice muffled against the vampire’s chest.

“ _Nandor_ , Guillermo. Call me Nandor when we are on dates.”

“Yes, Nandor.”

Nandor stepped back after a moment, and reached into his cape. His smile spoke for him as he produced a little dog-shaped statue.

“ _Aw_ ,” Guillermo murmured in spite of himself. “You kept Scooby.”

**A/N: Since that chapter was kind of intense, here’s a dumb poster I made for “You’re the One”. Starring Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone. In cinemas now! (jk it’s completely fictional)**

**[](https://ibb.co/L0hdsVr) **


	8. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor takes Guillermo home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little chapter. Wanted to get this posted before bed, I'll read through it in the morning and correct any mistakes there might be, but hopefully I got them all during my first proof-read!

They flew home, Nandor clutching Guillermo tightly to his chest the whole time. Nandor had carried him over Staten Island many times, but it was still as thrilling as ever; even more-so now because the chemistry between them was bubbling. Guillermo welcomed the cool wind in his hair – his face still felt too hot, but the frustration and anger he’d felt all night was being steadily replaced with nerves. Nandor always showed affection at the strangest of times, he mused, but he _was_ capable of showing it…in his own ways. He had been genuinely concerned about his familiar, about his _date_. The thought sent a thrill through Guillermo’s core and he warned himself not to get too excited.

Nandor deposited his familiar safely on the doorstep and Guillermo dug the keys out from his pocket. The door was sticking again, and only budged when Nandor threw his shoulder into it. Both went tumbling into the foyer, the door slamming shut behind them. Nandor put a finger up to his lips and hissed, _“Shush, Guillermo!_ ”

Guillermo opened his mouth to talk back, but decided to let it drop. He frowned as Nandor crept to the foot of the staircase and looked around. The almost comical way in which he moved indicated that he didn’t sense danger; he was just trying to be quiet for Laszlo, Nadja and Colin. Which was peculiar, because Nandor usually couldn’t care less about his fellow vampires’ sleep routines. It was only when he started following Nandor up the stairs did Guillermo’s stomach do a somersault and then drop.

_Oh no_ , he thought in a sudden panic. _He’s taking me to my room…is he expecting us to…? No, he’s just going to see me to bed and say goodnight. Relax, Guillermo. Deep breaths. You’re being ridiculous._

“Guillermo,” Nandor muttered in a low voice as they reached the second-floor landing. “Can you tell your heart to stop beating so loudly? It will wake the others.”

“Sorry, Master,” Guillermo whispered.

“ _Nandor_ ,” the vampire corrected.

That only gave Guillermo’s heart cause to speed up further. Did Nandor still consider this part of their date? _You’re overthinking things_ , he scolded himself. _It’s almost three in the morning, Nandor will be wanting to go to sleep himself._ Then why was his master so concerned about being quiet, if whatever his dusty old brain was planning was completely innocent?

Guillermo didn’t expect Nandor to wait for him at the door. The vampire was always walking in on him; unfortunately the need for an invitation didn’t apply to the rooms in a vampire’s own residence. So he was surprised when Nandor stood aside and patiently waited for his familiar to open the door. When he didn’t follow him inside, Guillermo turned and gave him a curious glance.

“You…don’t want to come in?” he asked, then wanted to smack himself for wording it that way.

“You haven’t invited me in,” Nandor replied.

Guillermo blinked. “You don’t _need_ an invitation, you’re always barging in here uninvited.” That seemed to sting Nandor, which only added to Guillermo’s confusion. What was the vampire doing?

Nandor took a cautious step inside and closed the door quietly. He looked around at the faded, partly-stripped walls. “Very nice,” he complimented, gesturing vaguely to an empty corner. “I like what you have done with the place.”

“You were in here just a day ago,” Guillermo said flatly. Their voices had woken Shaddow, who had been stretched out on the floor at the foot of Guillermo’s bed. He gave a happy whine, but was too lazy to get up. Guillermo bent down to scratch his head before addressing Nandor again. “What was with all the sneaking before? You’re always loud at night, even when people are trying to sleep.” He said the last part pointedly, but his voice wasn’t as firm as he’d wanted it to be; he was terribly nervous **.**

Nandor strolled over to him and poked a finger at the vest he wore. “I didn’t want to wake Laszlo,” he explained in a low voice. “That is his favourite vest, and he would kill you if he found out you’ve ruined it.” Guillermo should have felt some kind of alarm over that fact, especially now after hearing it from two vampires; but he was acutely aware of Nandor’s proximity. He could smell the blood on his breath, and his clothes were redolent of pine trees and old books. The vampire’s darkened eyes and wide pupils reflected how Guillermo felt; the butterflies in his stomach were fluttering wildly, trying to escape a molten serpent of desire that had been slowly waking and uncoiling in the pit of his stomach ever since their embrace at the beach. He had to say something before that deep ache got any worse; before he was devoured by those black eyes.

“I-I should probably go take a shower,” he breathed. “Just…wait here. I won’t be long.” He hurried to his dresser and rummaged for some clean clothes: a loose shirt, navy blue sweater, grey tracksuit pants, black satin boxer shorts. He bundled them up self-consciously and headed for the door.

“Guillermo?” Nandor said quickly.

Guillermo’s heart leapt into his throat. He forced himself to make eye contact with his master. “Yes?”

Nandor was beckoning with his hand. His face was unreadable. “Give me the vest now. I will take care of it. I will tell Laszlo I found a coyote wearing it, or something.”

***************************

Guillermo had never showered so quickly in his life. It helped that the hot water on this particular night had decided to skip town again, so he was stuck huddling in a far corner of the bath-shower and taking the occasional deep breath before plunging into the water, quickly scrubbing himself, and ducking back out again to brace for the next wash. He must have resembled a fledgling taking its first bath. The thought didn’t amuse him. His injured arm was stinging; the fight had stretched the skin and caused the sutures to bleed, so he’d had to peel the blouse off them and try to wash away the dried blood. His cheek felt inflamed. His cuts itched. At least the throbbing in his head had diminished; now it was just his heart throbbing wildly.

By the time he got out and dried he was a sore, shivering, anxious mess. As he pulled on his boxers – knowing full-well why he had chosen his best pair – the butterflies and the serpent within him began their deadly dance again. If he didn’t get back to his room soon, he’d probably have a panic attack.

He almost did have a panic attack upon entering his room and seeing Nandor stretched out over his bed, leafing through a thick leather-bound book.

“Guillermo?” Nandor said without looking up. There was a curious tone to his voice. “I don’t remember ever posing nude for you.”

“Give me _that_!” Guillermo hissed and snatched the sketchbook out of his hands.

“Did Laszlo show you the photographs from the orgy of 1979?”

“No!” Guillermo felt his face redden. “It’s not you, it’s just…it was a model that I drew. From a magazine.”

“He looks like me.”

Guillermo threw the sketchbook onto his dresser and turned around. Nandor was propped up on an elbow now, regarding him from under lowered brows. There was a mischievous spark in his eyes that made Guillermo’s insides squirm. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go sit on the bed? Lay next to Nandor?

_No, that’ll scare him away,_ Guillermo thought. _Or maybe it’ll scare me away._

This was alien territory. Even more alien than the kisses had been, somehow.

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” Nandor said finally.

Guillermo opened his mouth to protest, to tell him not to be silly, but then suddenly Nandor was standing beside him and he gestured towards the bed. “Go lay down, Guillermo. I want to tuck you in.”

Guillermo gaped at that. He could have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but he was far too nervous. This wasn’t the Nandor that had been tossing popcorn at some poor girl’s head only a few hours ago **.**

As if reading his thoughts, or sensing his confusion, Nandor spoke up. “While _you_ were out picking fights tonight, I was learning how to do the romancing, from the baby goose man.”

Okay, that almost made sense. Guillermo tried to hide his smile as he half-stumbled to bed and placed his glasses next to his alarm clock. He was suddenly very drowsy, and he welcomed the soft warmth of his mattress and blankets as he sandwiched himself between them. Nandor watched him with the expression one would usually reserve for observing wildlife.

“Are you comfortable now?” he asked when Guillermo poked his head out from under the covers. He looked up at his master and gave a simple nod and smile. Nandor suddenly vanished, replaced by a blur that was too fast for Guillermo’s poor sight to follow. He felt the mattress sink behind him and he stifled a gasp, quickly wriggling away from the figure that had manifested before him. But his pathetic human body was too slow, and before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Nandor was laying on the blankets beside him, propped up on one elbow, his top half leaning across his familiar. Their faces were inches apart. Some unconscious drive made Guillermo close his eyes, and a moment later their lips met in a light, hesitant kiss.

It was only a single kiss, and it was over far too quickly. Nandor pulled away and gazed at his familiar with an undecipherable expression. His hand slid to his cheek and lightly traced the blossoming yellow bruise there. Guillermo wanted to return the gesture, but his arms were under the covers and he was pinned; and moving at all was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Shaddow gave a curious whine, and from the corner of his eye, Guillermo saw the dog poke his head up to assess the scene, before huffing back to the floor, satisfied that nobody was in danger.

“I can stay until sunrise, if you like,” Nandor offered. His voice was unexpectedly deep and husky, and Guillermo almost swooned. The vampire must have noticed the hunger in his eyes, because he wiggled his eyebrows and added, “I can even pose nude for you.”

_Yep. I’m going to faint,_ Guillermo thought in dismay.

“That won’t be necessary,” he quickly choked out. Was he really doing this? Was he really pushing him away after all those nights alone, fantasising about this very moment, about Nandor sharing his bed? “You should really go back to your room soon. I don’t want to risk…the sun…you know.”

It was a poor excuse; Guillermo had boarded up his one window out of protection from any intruding vampires, and out of protection for _his_ vampires. Not an inch of sunlight could pass through those heavy timber boards, nor the sheets of paper he’d glued over the glass, or the three thick black curtains that hung over the mishmash.

“You don’t want this,” Nandor said after the silence became awkward. It wasn’t a question. Disappointment briefly flittered over his features as he slid away from Guillermo. His weight had been so comforting, his presence so inexplicably warming, that Guillermo nearly gasped when he felt that weight leave him. Without thinking, he flung his arms out from under the covers and lunged for him, snatching Nandor by the cape and pulling him back down to meet his lips with a recklessness that surprised them both.

The kiss was passionate this time; untamed. Guillermo clutched at his master’s cape as though it were a lifeline. The vampire’s mouth tasted faintly of blood, but it was unfamiliar because it wasn’t his own, and for some reason that filled him with a jealousy that only made him want more. Nandor’s beard caressed his chin and jaw, tickling his neck and sending chills down his spine.

Guillermo shuddered and let out a groan, reflexively bucking his hips up as Nandor ran his fingers through his hair. One hand came down from his scalp and rested on his cheek, cold as ice but heating Guillermo’s insides. He slid his tongue against Nandor’s lips, coaxing them open, so that he could explore deeper. Some dark part of him wanted to feel the sting of sharp fangs against his bottom lip, but he was too shy to make that sort of manoeuvre.

Nandor’s hand left Guillermo’s hair and he pinned him to the bed with him arm, while his left hand slid down and cupped his neck, his thumb grazing over the skin where his carotid artery lay hidden within. The gentle touch was heavy with meaning, and Guillermo emitted a longing whimper against Nandor’s lips. The vampire apparently misinterpreted the sound, because he pulled away suddenly, drawing another whimper from his familiar.

They were both breathing heavily, but for once Guillermo didn’t find his masters’ force of habit amusing. He was aching at the sudden loss of contact. It felt as if years of tension had been sucked out of him from that one little kiss. Nandor was still laying over him, their eyes locked and their expressions a mixture of lust and shock, but Guillermo already missed him.

“Please stay,” he choked.

“You asked me to leave just before,” Nandor teased.

“I changed my mind.”

The vampire grinned, his fangs flashing in the lamplight. He ducked his head and kissed Guillermo again, but pulled away far too soon, leaving his familiar wanting. “I should go,” he muttered. He reached for Guillermo’s uninjured hand and brought it up to his mouth. Guillermo felt his heart swell as he watched his master’s lips glide down the length of his wrist. He held Guillermo’s palm to his cheek, and when their eyes met again, Nandor’s were burning with lust.

But then he rose and climbed off the bed. Guillermo sat up, still panting, still wanting. He was so hard it was agonising. Nandor’s cape was strategically placed over his own trousers as he stared down at his date.

“Sorry, Guillermo,” he said mildly, though there was unmistakable mischief dancing in his eyes. “The Gosling man said you should never sleep with somebody on the first date.”


	9. Wait Up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor goes against Mr. Gosling’s advice, aka things get a little steamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get something to fan yourselves with…you might need it.
> 
> This *should* be the second-last chapter. I only have one more planned after this, and then an epilogue, unless I decide to merge them as both will probably be fairly short. Either way, this fic is coming to a close soon. What will be next? ...
> 
> Again, thank you SO SO much for the comments and likes! It's encouraged me to write more in the past 2 weeks than I have in 10 years, which is insane! I really appreciate it <33

_Poor little tin man, still swinging his axe  
Even though his joints are clogged with rust_

_My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away  
Safe in monotony, so safe, day after day_

_Count your blessings_

_My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away  
Cold wind blows off the lake and I know for sure that it’s too late_

_Count your blessings on one hand_

_So wait up I'm not sleeping alone again tonight  
There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life_

**~Boiled Frogs, Alexisonfire**

******************************

Nandor had never experienced an orgasm that was so mind-blowing and yet so utterly depressing. His arm ached from all the frenzied pumping; he thought he’d only last a few seconds but it turned out his brain had other ideas, panning back over all the _bad_ parts of the night. In the end, it was the fresh memory of his familiar’s blood that pushed him over the edge. And once over that crest, the thought of that blood had sent him crashing into fits of pleasure.

He’d had to get away from that room, even though the peculiar feelings in his chest screamed at him to stay. Every time he came within reaching distance of Guillermo, he caught the scent of his blood; could almost taste it on his tongue. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but Guillermo’s blood had been some of the most delectable he had ever tasted. And the taste was just a small part of it; his familiar’s blood was _potent_. The way in which Nandor had bounced back from death so quickly and with a renewed vigour, had him lusting for more.

Living with Guillermo for eleven years had mostly numbed his senses towards him. He rarely picked up on the scent of his blood anymore, and when he did, he had developed enough self-control to ignore it. There was also that little part of him – the same part that was so reluctant to turn Guillermo – that _cared_ about him enough to stave off the hunger.

But his lust for virgin blood had taken hold of his senses and his wits tonight. The longer he stayed in that room, and the longer he felt the oscillations of Guillermo’s blood rushing beneath his skin and the touch of his soft lips against his own; the more he had to fight down the urge to take a bite out of his familiar. In the end it all became too much.

He felt overwhelmed by the confusing jumble of sexual desire and vampiric desire and these stupidly human _feelings_. His head was throbbing from the stress of it all. His _other_ head was throbbing with the afterglow of his climax, except it wasn’t really an afterglow, more of an… _afterdull_.

Nandor hissed in frustration as he hiked up his pants and fastened them. He rose from the chaise and blew out the candles before dragging himself to his coffin, feeling exhausted and sad. He flopped inside, face first, and tried to kick the lid down over him. After a few attempts, he succeeded. The coffin lid slammed shut over his back and made the darkness complete.

**********************

Guillermo slept in late. He awoke to find his alarm clock bottom-up on the floor beside his bed, torn from its power socket. Apparently his slumbering brain had decided that 6am was too early to face the next twelve hours without Nandor. He climbed out of bed, feeling strangely calm as he dressed for the day and went over his mental checklist of chores.

Last night had ended on a good note, and this morning Guillermo felt strangely…great. He wasn’t even disappointed that Nandor had left in what seemed like a hurry, or that he couldn’t seem to bring himself to climax – the act of using his hand was almost tedious next to being kissed and caressed by a vampire. His high spirits diminished the pain he felt all over, and he spent much of the day fairly floating on air.

Shaddow was at his side the whole time, curious and playful, basking in his master’s unusual contentedness **.** He decided in his doggy brain that his master had had a lot of fun rolling around and playing with the big Nandor man last night. It made Shaddow happy to see his master happy. His human didn’t even seem to mind scrubbing the cell today, which was smeared with all sorts of stinky body fluids. And he had even shared his sandwich with him! Today was a good day, Shaddow decided.

When the other residents of the house awoke later that evening, Shaddow sensed a change in his master. His happy scent had transformed to a bitter one that made Shaddow more alert and watchful. It was the same smell he’d get when he felt like he was in some kind of danger, and after the fight with the vampires the other day, Shaddow knew in his own doggy way that he had to remain vigilant.

Guillermo was lounging in the library, scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly when Laszlo sauntered in. Shaddow lifted his big round head and huffed, before settling back down on the rug beside his master’s couch.

“Evening, Shaddow,” Laszlo greeted as he took a seat opposite the pair. Shaddow wagged his tail twice. “I suspect your date with Nandor went terribly, Gizmo?”

“It was fine,” Guillermo replied curtly, pretending to be invested in the article on his phone. He was somewhat aware that it had something to do with Van Helsing, but he couldn’t remember why he was reading it; right now he just wanted to look busy and avoid conversation.

“What are you looking at there, boy?” Laszlo asked, as if reading his thoughts.

That startled Guillermo, and he quickly scrolled to the headline to refresh his memory. The bold typeface announced a subject that caught him off-guard, as if he were only just seeing it properly for the first time. He kept his words vague. “Just…something about werewolves.”

Laszlo made a disgusted sound. “We don’t have _those_ pests again, do we? Nasty business, those things.”

“No! I’m just--”

“Do I need to set up the traps? Shaddow, why aren’t you out chasing werewolves, boy?”

Guillermo frowned at the vampire. “We _don’t_ have werewolves,” he bit.

Laszlo regarded him coolly for a second. “You seem frustrated, chap,” he observed. “And you still smell like a virgin.”

Guillermo shot him another glare. “What was that?”

Laszlo shrugged and raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I’m just saying, if Nandor isn’t delivering, I could…” he trailed off with an impish smile.

Guillermo almost dropped the phone on his face.

“There will be no delivering of _anything_ , Laszlo,” Nandor declared, sweeping into the room. “If you want to deliver things to familiars, you get your _own_. Guillermo is _my_ …” he stopped, seemingly struck by some internal thought.

Laszlo shrugged again and put his pipe in his mouth. “I’m just offering Gizmo a good time. Hell only knows what sort of nonsense you inflicted upon the poor lad last night.”

Nandor hissed at him, then turned to his familiar. Guillermo was still hiding behind the guise of reading, but his face was turning red. He couldn’t meet Nandor’s eyes, but he felt the weight of his gaze. “Did you tell Laszlo about our date?” he asked petulantly.

“No,” Guillermo said from behind his phone. “He guessed.”

“Oh…” Nandor trailed off, and there was a moment’s silence before something else popped into his head. “By the way, Laszlo, your favourite vest is ruined.”

Guillermo and Laszlo simultaneously shot daggers at Nandor.

“You had better be bullshitting me,” the vampire threatened. He straightened his back, his eyes moving to Guillermo, where they blazed. “I wore that vest during most of my pornos. It has sentimental value!”

Guillermo couldn’t hide his disgust.

Nandor grimaced uncomfortably. “Well…Guillermo took it off for _one_ minute, and the next thing I see…is a coyote running off with it.” He was trying to re-enact the scenario. Laszlo was staring at him, mouth hanging open.

“You expect me to believe that, you idiot?” he chided. “Did it drag Gizmo along, too? Is that why he’s all bruised up?” He turned to Guillermo and pointed his pipe at the familiar’s face. Guillermo had lowered his phone and was now staring wide-eyed. “You’re lucky I won’t kill you for losing my vest, chap,” the vampire said darkly. “Believe me, if Nandor weren’t so infatuated with you, you’d be a dead man by now.”

Guillermo’s heart skipped a beat and he glanced meekly at Nandor, but the vampire wasn’t looking at him. He was still frozen on the spot, grimacing.

“I suppose you’ll be looking for a new familiar now,” Laszlo continued. “Unless you’re going to make him your slave boyfriend.” He chuckled, then paused. “That sounds quite kinky, come to think of it.”

“Okay,” Guillermo sighed, suddenly very uncomfortable. “I’m going up to my room.” He got to his feet and gestured for Shaddow to follow. His heart was hammering as he left the library, but he tried to ignore it. He’d been in such a good mood today; he didn’t want it ruined by a horny, prying vampire.

“Look!” Nandor said from behind the curtain. “You’ve scared him away now, Laszlo.”

“I’m just being pragmatic,” Laszlo said dismissively.

Guillermo heard Nandor growl, followed by the swish of curtains. Footsteps followed him up the stairs, and they didn’t belong to Shaddow, who was now waiting at the landing above. Guillermo willed his heart to settle. His hands were getting clammy. Would he ever get used to this? To…whatever he and Nandor shared? Did they even share _anything_ right now? Why was dating so _confusing_?

As he reached his door, Guillermo was shocked into stillness by the feeling of two big arms around his waist. Before he had the chance to react, Nandor pulled him into an embrace, his abdomen pressed against Guillermo’s back. He brushed his lips over his familiar’s hair, tickling the top of his scalp. Guillermo closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the vampire’s chest, feeling a wave of calm wash over him. Nandor’s lips trailed down the back of his ear and into the crook of his neck, evoking a tiny whimper from his human. He breathed in the overwhelming scent of Guillermo’s blood. He would miss that sweet, vestal aroma when Guillermo lost his virginity, or became a vampire, or both. He had spent so many years keeping these senses at bay, so as to not become tempted, that he’d never had the chance to fully appreciate it until now.

He slipped his hands back and rested them on Guillermo’s hips. His lips were barely touching his familiar’s skin and already it was driving him mad; he wanted Guillermo, craved him like he craved blood – _more_ than he craved blood – but he didn’t want to hurt him. Sometimes he didn’t realise his own strength, or the strength of his desire.

Meanwhile, Guillermo was on cloud nine, and had an embarrassing hard-on to prove it. He heard Nadja’s voice from someplace nearby and was suddenly very aware of their lack of privacy. Then he noticed Shaddow waiting expectantly at his door. Guillermo followed the dog into his room and turned on the lamp while he waited for Nandor. Nandor shut the door with a soft click, and then he was on his familiar, crushing his lips against Guillermo’s and catching the man completely off-guard. His hands found Guillermo’s hips again and he guided him back, until they both tumbled onto the bed. Shaddow gave a wag of his tail and flopped down in his usual spot on the floor by the bed, sensing that his master was happy and safe again.

Nandor climbed onto his familiar, pressing hesitant kisses on his jaw and cheeks and forehead, before returning to his lips and placing teasingly soft kisses there. Guillermo was still too shy to return the kisses anywhere except his lips, unsure of how his master would react, so instead he ran his fingers over his cheeks and neck and down the front of his vest, taking in the various textures and committing them to memory. Every time the vampire shifted against him, a jolt of pleasure surged from Guillermo’s groin and into his chest and made him gasp. It was utterly torturous, but at the same time he never wanted it to end.

Nandor ran a thumb down Guillermo’s neck, and his mouth soon followed. He sucked at his familiar’s throat, and for a second Guillermo was sure he was going to come from that sensation alone. The intimacy of the action, mixed with the knowledge of his own vulnerability, made him giddy with lust. He slid his hands down to Nandor’s rear and held him firmly as he bucked his hips, silently sending him a message. Nandor moved away from his neck to look at him. His eyes held a golden, animalistic flare.

“I want to…” Guillermo gasped, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence. He bucked his hips again in desperation. The throbbing in his groin was almost agony. He needed release.

“But we’ve only been on one date,” Nandor said matter-of-factly.

Guillermo groaned, but then began to laugh. Nandor’s fingers were stroking a patch of hair above his ear and it tempered the frustration that had been growing within him. “We’ve known each other for _eleven years_ ,” he countered **.**

“But the Gosling man—”

“ _Fuck_ Ryan Gosling,” Guillermo snapped, surprising himself. “I want to fuck you.”

Nandor gaped at him for a moment, before raising an eyebrow and flashing one of his grins. “Guillermo!” he admonished playfully, and ground his hips against the hardness at his familiar’s crotch, eliciting a soft moan from the man. “That was very blunt of you.” There was a sparkle in his eye. “Are you sure?”

Guillermo was certain he must be beet red by now, but he nodded and breathlessly sighed a “yes.” This whole time, Nandor had been sweeping back his hair with a thumb, and the sensation was sending visible tingles down Guillermo’s spine, which seemed to fascinate the vampire. He regarded his human for a moment, his eyes soft; then he ducked his head and delivered a light kiss on his lips.

Guillermo wasn’t convinced that this was all the work of handsome, refined Mr. Gosling. Nandor had managed to pull this out from somewhere deep inside. The gentleness of his caresses, the softness of his kisses, the way his eyes locked onto Guillermo’s with a rare tenderness; it was all such a far cry from the medieval, empty-headed warrior that paraded around the house giving orders and demanding compliance. Guillermo loved him for this; he was probably the only person in countless years who had seen this side of the vampire.

Nandor got up on his knees just then, snapping his familiar from his thoughts.

“Guillermo,” he said, worrying his bottom lip. He suddenly looked like he had stage fright. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Guillermo propped himself up on his elbows and knitted his brow, suddenly filled with a desperate kind of apprehension. “You don’t want to?” he whispered.

“I do,” Nandor said with a little shrug, clearly embarrassed. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d said those words, but it still warmed Guillermo’s heart. “You won’t hurt me,” he assured. “Well, maybe a little. I’ve never done this before, but I’m sure after a while—”

“No, I don’t mean _that_ ,” Nandor said quickly. Guillermo was sure that the vampire would be bright red right now if he could blush. He sunk down into the empty space on the mattress beside him and leaned on one elbow. As he chose his next words, he ran the back of his hand down the side of Guillermo’s throat, drawing out another shiver from him.

“Since I drank your blood,” he began, “I’ve been thirsting for it. It’s unlike any I’ve ever tasted. And I think…” he paused and gently took Guillermo’s hand, running his thumb over warm knuckles. “I think much of the reason is because of this…of what we have.” He wouldn’t meet Guillermo’s eyes, but his familiar knew this was difficult for him to say. Exposing his feelings like this was still a very outlandish experience for them both.

Guillermo felt a swell of appreciation for his master and without thinking he cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply. When he broke away, he saw regret in the vampire’s eyes, which surprised him. “You’re afraid of draining me?” he asked, an idea slowly forming in his head.

“Yes,” Nandor said. “I don’t know if I will be able to control myself, Guillermo. If Laszlo hadn’t stepped in the other day when I was drinking from you…” he trailed off; there was no need to finish the sentence.

Guillermo understood. He looked down at their entwined fingers, thinking. He could bring up the possibility of Nandor turning him, so they would no longer have to worry about this kind of thing, but his master’s words came drifting back to him from the night of his birthday. Regardless of whether Nandor lost control or tried to turn him, there were always risks when it came to sharp fangs and arteries. He bit his lip. He was almost too afraid to voice the idea that had come to his head.

“It might not be fool-proof,” he murmured, and his eyes flicked up to meet Nandor’s. “But I think I know of a way to keep me safe.”

**********************

It wasn’t difficult to find rope in the house, what with the vampires always tying up their prey to save for later. No; the difficult part would be figuring out the tightest knots and finding the strongest surfaces around the bed to attach the ropes to.

Guillermo’s hands were surprisingly steady as he carried the two lengths of rope back to his room. Thankfully, the other vampires had vanished, presumably to go hunt. He had taken Shaddow downstairs and left him with a bone in the library. He had come to love his dog over the past few days, but the animal’s cognizance still unnerved him, and he didn’t favour the idea of being watched by those icy blue eyes while he and Nandor…

Guillermo’s mind went blank as he stepped back into his bedroom and saw what lay before him. The lamp was off, but in the short time he was gone, Nandor had gathered candles from somewhere and lit them on his bedside table. The honey-coloured glow danced over the bed and over the partly-shadowed vampire that lay there. He had taken off his vest and blouse, and Guillermo’s eyes travelled unsolicited down his naked torso, following the thick line of hair that snaked to the hem of his trousers. The fabric was stretched taut over a prominent bulge just beneath that hem, and Guillermo’s own cock twitched at the sight.

Clutching at the headboard above his head, his top half bare and his lustrous hair cascading down his shoulders, Nandor had never looked so much like the vampires from his dreams. Suddenly Guillermo felt completely inadequate. Like a mere, pudgy mortal faced with a god. He couldn’t move; his knuckles were turning white around the bunches of rope. The light of the candles played tricks on his eyes.

“Guillermo?” Nandor murmured. His own eyes were liquid fire as he regarded his familiar with concern. “Are you all right?”

“You’re beautiful.” The whispered words came tumbling out unbidden, and Guillermo snapped his mouth shut. Surely he hadn’t said that out loud…?

Nandor laughed, the sides of his eyes crinkling. “Even more beautiful than Armand?”

“No comparison,” Guillermo breathed, eliciting another laugh from his master. He needed to give his brain a good talking to later, he decided. He was speaking before thinking. Not that Nandor seemed to mind.

The vampire patted the bed beside him in a silent invitation. Guillermo stumbled over, a prisoner to his own desire now. He sat down beside Nandor, heart thundering.

“Rope?” Nandor inquired, taking one of the lengths from him. The sides of his eyes crinkled again as he beamed devilishly. “You are going to tie me up? That’s very kinky, Guillermo. Even for _you_.”

Guillermo’s face went bright red as he fumbled for an explanation. “It’s not fail-safe but I learnt how to tie knots when I was a kid and I thought maybe it could work at least to buy me enough time to get away if you-”

“Relax, Guillermo,” Nandor said, and lazily flung the rope at his face, smiling as Guillermo scowled. “How do you want me to lay?”

Guillermo’s frown only deepened. He hadn’t thought about that. About who would…do what. This was all uncharted territory for him and he struggled for a response. Nandor didn’t let him suffer with his thoughts for long, though. He sat up a little, then slid his arms halfway down the bedhead, to where the slab of oak had been cut away into thick, decorative pillars. He didn’t need to speak for his familiar to take the hint. Guillermo cautiously straddled Nandor and suppressed a groan when the vampire bucked his hips teasingly. He was grinning madly, showing off the razor-sharp edges of his fangs.

While he tied his master’s wrists to the supports, Guillermo had to dodge playful nips and licks, while also dealing with the friction of Nandor’s bucking hips and the seductive growls that escaped his throat every so often. It was all very distracting.

After tying the last knot, he bent down and gave Nandor a tauntingly short kiss, then sat back to admire his work. Nandor’s arms were spread out on either side of his head, his wrists tied firmly to the bedhead. The vampire tested them, trying to force his hands away from the timber, but they stayed securely fixed. He gritted his teeth a little. He really _couldn’t_ move.

“You did a good job with the tying, Guillermo,” he said, looking just a tad uncomfortable. “If I wanted to, I could easily break out of these restraints. I just won’t bec--”

Guillermo cut him off with another kiss. “I know,” he said, hiding his smile.

“I want to touch you. With my hands.”

“You will one day. Once we know it’s safe.” Guillermo sat up again and bit his lip, suddenly worried. “Mas—Nandor? I don’t…I’m not sure what to do.” His admission made his cheeks burn

Nandor didn’t miss a beat. “You said you wanted to fuck me,” he japed, and Guillermo couldn’t ignore the way the vampire undressed him with his eyes. “So fuck me.”


	10. Blood, Milk & Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guillermo and Nandor have sexy times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew this is it...my first detailed sex scene ever (unless you include the Before Dawn fic).
> 
> I am nervous about posting this. But I hope I did okay!
> 
> I'm so so happy people have been enjoying this fic, your comments make my day! <3

_Animal whisperings intoxicate the night  
Hypnotize the desperate, slow motion light  
Wash away into the rain, blood, milk and sky  
Hollow moons illuminate and beauty never dies_

_Running wild, running blind  
I breathe the body deep  
A thousand years beside myself  
I do not sleep_

_Seduce the world it never screams  
Dead water lies  
Ride the only one who knows  
Beauty never dies_

[ **Blood, Milk & Sky ~ White Zombie** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvVGe7r1Wzo)

**(I linked this song because it is very sexy and vampirey)**

*********************

“Tell me what to do, Master,” Guillermo whispered **.** He still straddled Nandor, fingers absently trailing through the vampire’s thick chest hair.

“ _Nandor_.”

Guillermo felt his face heat up at the correction, and he smiled meekly, looking away. “Old habits die hard,” he mumbled.

“And I’m going to die hard if you don’t take those clothes off soon,” Nandor snapped. He nodded at Guillermo’s shirt; then his eyes slid down to the bulge in his familiar’s pants. Guillermo felt a sudden flurry of nerves, coupled with chagrin. Aside from Nadja’s fussing the other night, he couldn’t remember the last time he had shown his bare chest, let alone any other part of his body, to anyone. He had known this would be coming, yet he still wasn’t prepared for it.

Nandor sensed his hesitation. “Guillermo, I’m tied up very tightly. You don’t need to worry about me eating you, no matter how delicious you might look.” There was an unmistakable hunger in his dark eyes, but Guillermo couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting or not.

He took a deep breath. He could feel his erection flagging and it filled him with panic. “I’m worried you won’t like…how I look.”

Nandor groaned and rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t like the way you look, I wouldn’t be asking you to take your clothes off.” There was an impatience in his tone that stung. “You are acting like one of those college girls from the soapy operas. If you are too afraid to take off your clothes, come over here and I’ll tear them off with my teeth.”

“Nandor…” Guillermo didn’t know why he was pleading; or why this was so hard for him. In his fantasies, his body image had never been an issue.

Nandor growled petulantly, but there was a playful streak in his voice. “I _like_ the way you look, Guillermo. You are cute. Like a soft teddy bear that is also sexy. A sexy teddy bear. Yeugh. You made me say the things. Are you happy now? Take off your fucking clothes before I make myself sick.”

Guillermo ducked his head and laughed, blushing. He removed his glasses and reached over to put them on the bedside table. Then he pulled his sweater over his head, followed by his shirt. He felt Nandor’s eyes appraising him, and he tried to ignore his churning stomach as he stood to take his trousers and boxer shorts off. Despite the nerves, he was rock-hard again, and when he looked back at Nandor, the vampire was grinning. Guillermo climbed onto him and went for the buttons on his trousers; he felt far too exposed in comparison to his lover.

“Wait,” Nandor said. “Come here.” He jerked his head back in an attempt to beckon to him. Guillermo crept forward, expecting a kiss. Instead, Nandor buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. “I’m going to miss this smell,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice muffled. Guillermo knew immediately what he was referring to: his virginal blood. He shivered as the vampire’s nose grazed the hollow of his neck. For a split-second, he thought he felt the gentle press of two sharp needles against his skin, but then it was gone. Desire roiled deep inside him. He pressed his cock against Nandor’s lower belly, desperate for something to soothe the ache, and Nandor rewarded him with a ticklish lick up the side of his neck.

“Do you want another taste?” Guillermo asked before he could even think to stop himself. He pulled away from Nandor and looked him in the eyes. The vampire’s face was a little blurry, but his eyes were definitely shining with a golden light. He bared his fangs.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, though there was little warning in his tone.

Guillermo ran his uninjured forearm down the side of Nandor’s cheek, stopping briefly as his wrist came parallel to the vampire’s nose. A part of him wondered if he really _should_ lose his virginity tonight, or keep it and relish in torturing Nandor for a little while longer. As he considered this, Nandor bucked his hips and growled, and Guillermo grinned in spite of himself. He leaned forward again and met Nandor’s lips. They kissed deeply, urgently; their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, their teeth grazing each other’s lips. Guillermo waited for the perfect moment, and when it came, he flung his head up and away, feeling the sting of tearing flesh on the inside of his bottom lip. He sat back, smiling as blood seeped into his mouth.

“Fucking guy!” Nandor hissed. “You did that on purpose!”

Guillermo didn’t reply. His mouth was slowly filling with a familiar metallic tang. He leaned forward and crushed his lips against Nandor’s again, using his tongue to part them, allowing his blood to trickle into Nandor’s mouth. The vampire groaned loudly and shuddered beneath his familiar. He tried to jerk his arms forward but they were tied fast to the bedhead.

Guillermo worked his mouth over Nandor’s, feeding him the blood from his cut lip. The sting of Nandor’s tongue against the wound felt delicious. He skimmed his slick cock over Nandor’s belly, all the while enjoying the friction of the hair there. Beneath the pleasure, though, was the dread of knowing he couldn’t last much longer.

It was this realisation that made him shuffle back from Nandor (he didn’t miss the whimper of protest that came from his lover), and finally reach for the buttons of his trousers. This time, Nandor didn’t stop him. Guillermo hazarded a glance at him as he undid them. Blood smeared the vampire’s lips, and he was breathing heavily with hunger and lust; his eyes two wide, black orbs ringed in gold.

Guillermo pulled Nandor’s trousers down, trying to keep his hands steady. Nandor’s breath hitched when he was finally exposed, relieved to be rid of the constricting clothes. Guillermo found himself staring at his master’s member; though his vision was a little blurry, there was no mistaking that the vampire was well-endowed. He swallowed hard as he thought about being on the receiving end of that cock. He locked eyes with Nandor as he cautiously wrapped a hand around the base of it and swept his thumb across the silky skin. Nandor drew in a quick breath, but didn’t take his eyes away from his familiar’s. Guillermo trailed his palm up the length of him, his touch tauntingly light. He swept a finger over the head and almost smirked when his master’s cock twitched in response.

An idea formed in his mind then, and Guillermo scooted down the bed a little. He gave Nandor’s belly a quick peck before lowering his head and running his tongue up the side of the vampire’s erection. Nandor let out a loud, strangled groan, which encouraged Guillermo to take him in his mouth.

“Guillermo,” he gasped.

Spurred on by the desire in his voice, Guillermo slid his lips down his cock, tantalisingly slow. He felt and tasted so _human_ : soft and hard, sweet and bitter at the same time. He tasted like skin and soap and something masculine. That underlying aroma of ancient history _,_ that was always present on him, engulfed his senses. He was also unexpectedly warm down here.

“Guillermo,” Nandor said, more firmly this time. “Stop.”

Guillermo’s heart leapt and he quickly sat up, breathing heavily, worried. “Did I…what did I do wrong?” he blurted.

Nandor’s face was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes that he failed to hide **.** “Nothing,” he assured. “But tonight is for _you_.”

Guillermo was sure he’d melt then and there; just become a useless puddle of goo. Nandor wanted to pleasure _him_ , not the other way around like Guillermo had more or less expected. His heart swelled and a lump formed in his throat, which he swallowed down in a panic. This would be the _worst_ possible time to get teary.

Nandor cocked his head pointedly at the bedside table. “Over near the candles,” he said in a low voice. Guillermo clambered over him to find whatever it was that he was referring to. Nandor took the opportunity to nip at his shoulder, grinning. Guillermo didn’t think he’d ever get used to his master’s seductive, playful side – nor would he ever grow tired of it. He found a little purple bottle lying on its side behind the candles and he brought it up to his face, squinting.

“Looooob,” Nandor said, and grinned when Guillermo gave him a questioning look. “I brought it in here when you went to find rope.”

“You’re fast,” Guillermo breathed, then reddened when he thought, _I’m going to be fast too, once we…_

He fumbled with the lid and then squeezed too much onto his hand. He felt his cheeks flame even more, but Nandor simply watched on patiently, if not a little curiously. He was almost about to apply it to his cock when the vampire stopped him. “Not yet,” he said. “Use your fingers first. It has been a while.”

Guillermo was sure he had to be bright scarlet by now. His cheeks felt on fire. He wanted to hide. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Nandor deeply in an attempt to settle his own panic. He wanted more than anything for Nandor to guide him, but without the use of his hands, the vampire wasn’t very helpful. He daubed the gel over his fingers and reached down, but his master was too tall, so he kissed his way down Nandor’s chest and abdomen, stopping to nip at the skin around his navel as he slipped two fingers between Nandor’s ass cheeks and found what he was looking for.

Nandor let loose a deep moan and moved against Guillermo’s fingers until he enveloped them. Guillermo kissed his way back up to Nandor’s chest as he timidly practised gliding his fingers in and out, again surprised by the warmth of him. He looked up to see Nandor tilt his head back against the oak board, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clenching and unclenching. _He likes it,_ Guillermo realised, astonished. That simple thought, coupled with the mental image of his cock being where his fingers currently were, were enough to drive him headlong towards an orgasm. He quickly pushed down the urge, the strain of it causing sweat to prickle on his brow.

But it came roaring back when Nandor muttered, “Touch yourself.”

“I’m not going to last much longer,” Guillermo gasped. He was mortified to utter those words, but he needed his master to know.

Nandor hummed in pleasure, squeezing around his fingers again, as if to tease him. “I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long,” he japed.

Guillermo scowled, only half-playfully. He slipped his fingers out and reached for more lube. This time he slathered his cock with it; he was so sensitive that the feeling of his own hand almost sent him over the edge. _Hold on_ , he chided himself.

He looked to Nandor for guidance as he knelt into position and slid the head of his cock between the vampire’s cheeks; his blurry eyes made it difficult to read his expression at this distance, though.

Nandor must have caught on to his apprehension. “Grab my legs,” he instructed, bringing his knees up. Guillermo obliged, taking hold of as much of Nandor’s thighs as his small hands would allow. He gently thrust forward, Nandor guiding him as much as he could with his body, and then he was inside. They exchanged glances, both exhaling at the same time.

Guillermo pushed a little deeper, then slid back out again, picking up a slow pace. The sensation was exquisite. The vampire’s inner muscles clamped around his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through his core. Every single nerve in his body sang with each careful thrust. And each time he slid back inside, he pushed a little deeper, his heart swelling with an all-consuming sense of pride whenever he managed to draw out a groan from his master.

Being in control like this was such an alien feeling, but one he welcomed with an excitement he had never felt before. He moved dreadfully slow, overwhelmed by the endless sensations that surged through his body, and eventually Nandor’s groans were edged with impatience.

“Come here,” he murmured. Guillermo made him wait a few more thrusts, and then he bent forward, pushing Nandor’s legs up as he moved. They met in a wild kiss, and Guillermo could still detect the faintest hint of his blood on the vampire’s tongue. Each time Nandor moaned into his mouth, Guillermo was sure this would be it, that he’d be pushed over the edge of the wave. But he was still riding it, slowly thrusting in and out, savouring the unexpected warmth, the feeling of being inside his master; of being a _part_ of him.

Eventually the leisurely pace became too unbearable for Nandor, and he bucked his hips, enveloping Guillermo more fully. “Deeper,” he growled. Guillermo suddenly found himself sheathed to the hilt, and the sensation made his head spin. He had to keep his master’s pace now, which was considerably faster.

“Help me come,” Nandor rasped. “Use your hand.”

Guillermo obeyed, taking him in hand and pumping, while manoeuvring himself in order to reach Nandor’s lips. It was straining on his arms, but when they met again in a deep kiss, the sweet ache diminished. Another surge of pleasure rolled through Guillermo. He was so close. If they kept this pace, he’d come crashing down from the wave any second, and he never wanted this to end. _Never_.

Guillermo moved his mouth away from Nandor’s in an attempt to delay his imminent climax, but the vampire suddenly bit into his shoulder to stifle a loud moan, and Guillermo was gone. White light burst behind his eyes as he came, gasping. He clutched Nandor’s legs tightly, pinning him to the mattress and stilling him while he spilled his seed inside. He was vaguely aware of hearing Nandor curse, and feeling a warm wetness against his hand. But he was consumed by his own pleasure, riding out that wave, which only lasted a few seconds but seemed to continue for an eternity.

By the time he was done, Nandor had pulled away from his shoulder, and Guillermo bowed his head, panting heavily. It was only then that he fully realised Nandor had come, too. Both of their abdomens were sticky with it.

Guillermo waited for the tingling in his groin to subside before he pulled out, completely spent. He rolled over and tried to catch his breath. A thin film of sweat covered his skin from head to toe; his head spun. When had the room become so hot? He closed his eyes in an attempt to bounce back to reality. In the end, it was the stinging in his shoulder and the feeling of blood trickling down his arm that cleared his head for him. That, and Nandor’s voice.

“Well? Are you going to make me sit here all night?” he asked. His voice held its usual demanding tone, but the night’s events had tempered it somewhat.

“S-sorry,” Guillermo breathed, jumping back to his knees and straddling Nandor again while he reached for his glasses. As he put them on, he caught sight of a slick patch of crimson on his right shoulder. Only then did he noticed that the bed – and they – were fairly covered in blood and semen and sweat. He tried to push the thought of tomorrow’s laundry from his mind as he unbound his master’s wrists. Nandor had been quietly observing him this whole time, but as soon as he was free, he hurled his arms around Guillermo’s shoulders in a bear hug and wrestled him into the mattress.

“Gah!” Guillermo shrieked as the room became a blur. “What he fuck are you—”

His words were cut short by a kiss. When they broke away, he realised he was on his back, pinned to the mattress by a heavy, hairy, hulking shape.

Nandor looked down at his familiar with a devilish grin. His eyes still glinted with dark desire. “Next time, Guillermo, _you_ will be the bottom.”


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something stalks within the shadows

**Two Months Later…**

Guillermo left Nandor to his ghostly waterfall act and walked out onto the second-floor landing. His mind wandered back over the past few months – it all still felt like a dream. It wasn’t a perfect dream, of course; things were still very awkward. They had made love only a handful of times since that first night together, and Nandor still had to be tied to the bed. Guillermo didn’t mind, though; he was hesitant to try new things, worried that he’d do something wrong. The way they made love now – just like that first night – was still so fresh that it felt new every time. Despite his stipulation that Guillermo would be the bottom on their second round of lovemaking, Guillermo still hadn’t experienced what it felt like for Nandor to be inside him. The vampire would never admit it, but Guillermo was certain he _liked_ submitting to his familiar.

Nandor was yet to share Guillermo’s bed for a whole night, too, citing the risk of sunlight – the same excuse that Guillermo had once used. He was beginning to suspect that Nandor wanted to take things slowly. And why not? He had all the time in the world. And _if_ he ever decided to turn Guillermo, then they would both have an endless amount of time to experiment.

Aside from the lovemaking, Guillermo was still trying to figure out where he stood with the vampire. Nandor was often still demanding and ill-tempered, and reluctant to show affection. But when they were alone in Guillermo’s room, he became a different vampire.

For now, Guillermo was content with keeping things simple and routine. He would still be Nandor’s familiar until the vampire was comfortable enough to take him as a boyfriend. They were still discovering each other, despite being together for eleven years. And Guillermo was still chiselling away at that hard shell around his master, taking delight in those rare occasions where the vampire would open up to him.

He was so lost in his thoughts that Guillermo didn’t hear Nandor come up behind him.

“House meeting!” he yelled eagerly.

Guillermo almost spun around and punched him in surprise. They’d not had any intruders since Colin unintentionally killed the mosquito vampires, but Guillermo was always on alert. Nandor caught him around the waist and rested his chin on his head. “Nadja! Laszlo!” he called. “House meeting!!!”

Guillermo pushed him away with an annoyed smirk and descended the staircase, just as Laszlo and Nadja came in through the back door.

“It stinks out there,” Nadja said, her mouth contorted in disgust.

“House meeting!” Nandor repeated, following Guillermo down to the foyer.

“Yes, we heard you the first bloody time!” That was Laszlo.

“What stinks?” Guillermo asked as the small group made their way into the library.

“Werewolves have been pissing on my topiaries again,” Laszlo spat.

“They do seem to love your vaginas, darling.” Nadja’s voice was full of sorrow.

Guillermo took his usual place beside Nandor as the other two vampires made themselves comfortable on one of the lounges. Shaddow was already laying on his chair, and he waved his tail at them all in greeting. Colin Robinson was absent, though not doubt he would come slinking in at some point.

“Thank you all for coming,” Nandor said in his important House-Meeting voice. “First order of business: You will know that Guillermo and I have been having sex recently.”

_Oh my god._ Guillermo bowed his head and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“So as the saying goes,” Nandor continued, his face lighting up in a grin. “If the bed is a-rocking, don’t come a-knocking.”

Laszlo groaned and rubbed his temples. Nadja looked even more disgusted than before.

“Second order of business: With the bi-annual orgy coming up, I am not sure I will be attending. Guillermo and I will be--”

“Is there anything important you have to say?” Nadja snapped. “Or are we just here to talk about the spectacle that is your love life?”

“I have something important to say,” Laszlo piped up, straightening his back. “There are werewolves pissing on my topiaries again.”

“Are you sure they’re werewolves?” Nandor asked. “Shaddow likes your topiaries too.”

“They’re _werewolves_ ,” Laszlo said firmly. “And I’m putting out traps tonight.”

Nandor rolled his eyes. “No, Laszlo. The traps are inhumane.”

“Since when do you give a flying rat’s arse what’s inhumane?” Laszlo snapped. “I’ll tell you what’s _inhumane_ – pissing on my beloved vaginas!”

“All right, all right.” Nandor put his hands up in a show of peace. “Laszlo, I will permit _one_ trap. If you catch it, it is _your_ responsibility to take it back to where it came from. I do not want trouble with the werewolves.”

Laszlo punched a finger in the general direction of his garden. “It’s _them_ who are causing the trouble.”

Guillermo tuned out, suddenly very tired. He wanted this meeting to be over so he could put Nandor to bed and feel his lips one last time tonight, before sinking into his own slumber.

********************

Something thick and wet tickled Guillermo’s hand and he startled awake. The bulky shape of Shaddow stood beside him, licking his fingers and whining. Guillermo tiredly searched for his glasses in the dark. The alarm clock read 3:40am.

“Need to go pee-pee?” he drowsily asked the dog. He had picked up the ridiculously childish term from Nandor, and now it had stuck, to the point that Shaddow recognised it. The corso trotted to the door and waited patiently for Guillermo to climb out of bed and shrug on his gown. He followed the dog downstairs and opened the back door. A gust of icy air hit his face and he inhaled sharply. They were inching closer to summer, yet the night-time winds still held a bite.

Guillermo leaned against a bannister and watched Shaddow disappear into the dark, the dog zig-zagging in and out of vulva-shaped topiaries with his tail held high. Occasionally he’d catch a glimpse of those reflective blue eyes looking back at him to make sure he was still there.

The early morning silence was broken suddenly by a loud rustle of leaves, and a large shape emerged against the pitch-black backdrop of the garden. He heard a doggish whimper.

“Shaddow?” Guillermo called softly, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“All right, Shaddow?” Came Laszlo’s voice. The vampire appeared in the circle of porch light just then, exiting the gardens, wiping his hands on his nightshirt. He spotted Guillermo and gestured to his topiaries. “Setting traps,” he explained. “ _Three_ of them. Nandor’s ludicrous rules or not, I plan to catch those bastards.”

“Ah.” Guillermo was too tired to say anything more. He stepped aside to let Laszlo through the back door, then went back to watching the darkness. He hoped Shaddow would be done soon; he was getting cold, and he knew the dog liked to go off on a scent trail sometimes.

A sudden low growl penetrated the quiet, and Guillermo straightened up. He glanced behind him, only to be met with a closed door. Laszlo was inside. Deep down he knew it hadn’t been the vampire, but he’d still had to check to be sure. He turned back to the garden.

“Shaddow?” he called again.

Behind the garden fence, one of the topiaries shook violently in response. Guillermo jumped back, his shoulder hitting the door. There was another growl, louder this time, and then more rustling. A moment later something grey and white and _huge_ burst from behind a topiary, snarling and running at breakneck speed. Shaddow was on its heels in an instant, barking and snapping.

“Shit,” Guillermo hissed. “Shaddow! Get back here! Shaddow!” He wanted to follow, but he was frozen to the spot in fear.

There was a scuffle in the shadows, followed by a high-pitched yelp that sent Guillermo’s heart galloping. A moment later, Shaddow manifested out of the black, a tuft of grey fur sticking out of his mouth. He trotted to Guillermo, looking every bit proud of himself. Guillermo scratched behind the dog’s ear absent-mindedly, his eyes on the street beyond the gardens and fence. Silhouetted against a streetlight was a towering, bulky form with pointed ears and razor-sharp claws. It lumbered down the road on its hind legs, hunched over, keeping to the shadows. Before it was out of sight, though, it straightened and twisted its shoulders to look back.

Guillermo felt chills crawl up his spine and tingle across his scalp as his eyes met with two golden orbs set back in a hidden, wolfish face. They watched him knowingly, sizing him up; sapient animal eyes filled with human cognizance. They caught the reflection of distant headlights and flashed white for a second, and then they were gone, vanishing along with the creature’s silhouette. A memory came back to Guillermo unbidden, of a certain article he had pretended to read a few months back. The headline flashed in his mind, as clearly as if he had read it an hour ago.

Guillermo swallowed hard and gave Shaddow’s shoulder a firm pat.

“Come on,” he said, feeling uneasy. “Let’s go back to bed.”

As he opened the door to usher Shaddow inside, his ears picked up a distant, eerie howl.

Somehow he knew it was meant for him.


	12. What we Become in the Shadows (Art)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A painting I did in relation to this series. What is it? If you have superhuman eyesight (or just zoom in), you may find a clue...

[](https://ibb.co/K9y1SKQ)


End file.
